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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817561">you won't want for nothin', boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep'>howdoyousleep</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Collars, Crying, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Feminization, Humiliation, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Protective Steve Rogers, Protectiveness, Public Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sub Bucky Barnes, Subspace, Table Sex, Top Steve Rogers, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism, Watching</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:48:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,491</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mr. Walker isn’t used to being a Daddy, isn’t used to cherishing and loving and guiding in such a way…” Steve says and it’s as if he’s saying it again, wanting Bucky to understand what he is saying, watching him in a somewhat expectant way. </p><p>“Steve, I don’t—”</p><p>“He needs help, sugar. He doesn’t know what a good Daddy looks like…”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“He needs to see what a good Daddy and a sweet boy look like when they’re together.” </p><p>Bucky’s brain feels like it comes together in a clusterfuck and then…blanks out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>August Walker/Original Male Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1006</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This wild crossover came about on Tumblr a few months ago and I'm running away with it.<br/>For those who don't know, August Walker is a character that Henry Cavill played in the most recent Mission Impossible movie. A quick Google search will give you a visual and trust me-- you want the visual.<br/>This is very...different than anything I've ever written. Heed the tags please and thank you!<br/>I'm not sure how many chapters this will be but it is far too long to post as one long fic. I hope you understand!<br/>Beta'd by my boo thang, @the1918. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You seem to have an incredible connection. The way he looks at you is…it seems to be something special.”</p><p>Steve smiles to himself a little, finishes chewing the piece of broccoli in his mouth, thoughts wandering to his sweet Buck and how his day is going, how much he misses him even in this domestic casual way. He wipes his mouth with his napkin, puts his container back into his lunch bag, leans back in his chair and grabs for his water.</p><p>“It is something special. I’ve never met anyone like Bucky and I am incredibly lucky to have him in my life. Don’t you have someone special like my Buck?” Steve is sure that the other man has mentioned a someone else and is positive he dabbles in the same sort of relationship that Steve and Bucky strive for and have, but he can’t quite remember the details.</p><p>August falters, something there, an underlying frustration that he isn’t good at concealing, one that makes Steve’s eyebrow flick up in interest.</p><p>“I…yes there is someone. I’m not entirely sure it is going to last. We…we are on shaky ground right now.”</p><p>Steve is startled that August shares even the barest information with him, knows how private of a person he is and knows how built up the other man’s walls are. Steve hums, a noncommittal noise, not wanting to push the subject but August continues, much to Steve’s growing surprise.</p><p>“He claims I am too hard of a Dom, that I don’t show him enough affection, that I don’t communicate enough,” he explains while looking down at his hands, wringing them around the water bottle he holds between them. Steve nods, knowing this is common when you are starting out a relationship with someone, makes another affirmative hum.</p><p>“That’s common. Communication is important in a relationship for a plethora of different reasons. Subs need to be constantly reassured that they’re okay and that they’re safe and loved. Your Sub may have a point, Walker.”</p><p>August sighs heavily, a little dramatically if you ask Steve.</p><p>“I know, <em>I know</em> I just…I know.”</p><p>Steve doesn’t know what to say at this point. If August knows it should be an easy fix and him and his Sub should be on the path to a positive and loving relationship. August looks up at Steve, leans back in his chair some, and Steve thinks he needs to clean out his ears when the other man says, “Rogers, I think…I think I need your help.”</p><p>Steve looks at him, takes another drink of his water. He’s genuinely curious now.</p><p>“With?”</p><p>“I like this kid. I like him a lot and I want things to work but…but I’m struggling here. I don’t know where to go or what to do.”</p><p>Steve can’t help the fact that his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and August rolls his eyes, scoffs a little.</p><p>“Hey, come on! It’s not every day <em>the</em> August Walker says he needs my help. In fact, I don’t think you’ve ever—”</p><p>“Can it, Steve.”</p><p>“—come to me for anything. This is unprecedented.”</p><p>August huffs in annoyance, throws his hands up a little in defeat, and Steve chuckles.</p><p>“How do you propose I help you?” Steve knows this is the make or break it part of the deal. Whatever August says here has to be something Steve knows he can carry out without tainting his relationship with Bucky. There are a variety of things August could say, ranging from wanting to talk it out to wanting Steve to step in and be his Sub’s temporary Dom during a scene, but he doesn’t expect August to propose—</p><p>“Let me see you and your boy in action, see how you work with him, see how you break him down and support him through it…”</p><p>Steve’s next breath can’t help but get caught in his throat a little. Someone else watching him and his boy? The chance to show Buck off in front of someone? Showing off how sweet of a little thing he becomes just for Steve?</p><p>He can’t help but get a little aroused in his seat, feels his heart rate pick up, can’t stop the flood of images or his excitement from coursing through his body. He runs his hand across his chin in mock consideration. August Walker would go to no one and admit he was weak, admit he needed help, and Steve wants to take this request seriously, wants him to know his thoughts and concerns are valid. </p><p>He considers how Bucky would feel about this, about someone else in their home with them, watching them be intimate. Steve has talked about Bucky’s little exhibitionist kink, wanting to be watched and wanting others to see how good he is for Daddy. He’s sent Bucky soaring just mentioning others seeing how much of a slut he is for Daddy, how much of a good boy he is. </p><p>It may take some love and convincing, a good opportunity for August to see, but he’s confident this is something that Bucky would not be opposed to, especially if Daddy wanted it. </p><p>“I think that can be arranged…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“You want me to show you off tonight, Buck? Y’wanna be my sweet boy, the best boy, so Mr. Walker can learn what it’s like to be a good Daddy?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have received a few comments on this chapter about this work not being tagged properly for Dub Con. I'm standing firm on the way I have tagged this fic but wanted to give a warning that there is no doubt that Bucky is startled by the quick course of events in this story, but that is not to be misconstrued with Bucky being coerced into doing something he does not want to do. Steve most definitely needs to explain himself and what he wants from the night, but that too should not be taken as him convincing Bucky to do something he does not want to do. </p>
<p>If you have not read anything from this series before this point, whether it be here or on Tumblr, this is probably not the best story to start with. These two have an incredibly established relationship that is full of love, respect, communication, and support. </p>
<p>The next chapter allows for Bucky to shine and for his thoughts to continue to grow and build. I think the next chapter, as well as the fourth, shows that Bucky is more than willing to embark on this journey with Steve. </p>
<p>I have no intention on changing my tags but please know that this does surprise Bucky and that you, the reader, may experience that surprise and this thought process with him and that has the potential to make you uncomfortable. I would never encourage you to continue reading something that makes you uncomfortable in any way but the next chapter may clear any concerns up. </p>
<p>I hope you enjoy this nonetheless.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day honestly flies by right in front of Bucky’s eyes. He had three classes, Natasha wanted to workout, he gave his best effort at tidying up the house, did some laundry. By the time the afternoon rolls into the evening, he manages to take a quick shower before traipsing into the kitchen to scour the fridge for a meal he can whip up for himself. Steve has a dinner meeting with some people at the office and he’ll be home later than usual, so Bucky chooses some leftover pad thai from the other night.</p>
<p>Bucky considers what to do with the rest of his evening, not having expected to have the time by himself, and for the first time in a long time, he decides to watch a movie. He pops some popcorn, finds some Twizzlers in the cabinet, plops there on the couch and pulls up <em>The Emperor’s New Groove</em>.</p>
<p>A classic.</p>
<p>He is glad he made the choice that he did, not having seen this movie since he was maybe in middle school. It makes him chuckle, it makes him make openly sad noises at time, and Kronk! How had he let such a genuine and hilarious character slip his mind? He had forgotten how funny and heartfelt the entire movie was, was surprised that it kept his attention throughout the entire time, and before he knew it, it was nearing nine in the evening. As he makes his way to the kitchen, bowl and cup and trash in tow, he briefly wonders where Steve is, not having received any texts or calls from him throughout the night.</p>
<p>And with immaculate fucking timing, Bucky hears Steve’s keys in the door. Bucky is moving to put his bowl into the dishwasher when he hears another voice as well, more than one set of footsteps, and he is immediately curious. Why would anyone else be coming over to the house this late at night? Why would Steve be letting them?</p>
<p>When Steve and the other person, a man, turn the corner into the kitchen, Bucky feels his eyes want to go wide.</p>
<p>
  <em>Mr. Walker? </em>
</p>
<p>“Hey, sugar. How are you?” Steve asks him, voice low and cheery, tipping Bucky’s chin up to give him a quick kiss as a greeting before turning and placing his keys, phone, and wallet onto their spot on the counter.</p>
<p>“M’good,” is all Bucky can manage to say, so privy to the other pair of eyes on him and that he is in sweatshorts and Steve’s old college shirt. Steve couldn’t have given him a heads-up, a quick text? <em>Anything? </em>The only thing that isn’t awkward about this entire situation is how normal Steve is acting, the only glue holding this bizarre scenario together. Why would Steve bring Mr. Walker home during the week and so late into the evening?</p>
<p>Bucky has too many questions, all questions that would be rude to ask while Mr. Walker is standing a few feet from him. Their guest’s eyes meet Bucky’s, a nod of a smile is tilted in his direction, and Bucky tries his best to reciprocate, feels his cheeks heat up a little, <em>god help him. </em>Steve’s hand is on his lower back then, a comforting gesture, and his voice is low, still light, when he speaks.</p>
<p>“Buck, you remember August Walker, right? From the office?” Bucky does remember him, remembers that Steve isn’t necessarily fond of this man. Mr. Walker is someone that Steve has somewhat of a love-hate relationship with, the two always trying to one-up the other in a constant sort of hushed competition. Bucky had met him the first time he accompanied Steve to a benefit, arm candy and not official at the time, but Bucky hadn’t forgotten Mr. Walker.</p>
<p>Because <em>who could </em>forget Mr. Walker.</p>
<p>The sheer size of this man was almost unbelievable even when Bucky is looking at him with his own eyes in person, the man wide and tall and broad, big in every way, makes Steve not look as hefty when they stand side by side. Bucky is almost certain that Mr. Walker’s hand could span the size of his head, that two of Bucky’s arms <em>might </em>equate to one of the other man’s own arms. He’s physically large but he also takes up any room in much less physical ways.</p>
<p>Mr. Walker makes Bucky uneasy but uneasy in a way that makes him want to squirm on the spot. He’s afraid of doing something wrong in front of Mr. Walker, him being someone Bucky naturally and automatically doesn’t want to disappoint. He doesn’t know how to interpret this natural urge to not be bad for Mr. Walker, can barely look the man in the eyes, feels himself about to get flustered. It doesn’t help that Mr. Walker is one of the most attractive men he’s ever met.</p>
<p>Bucky only has eyes for Steve but there is no denying beauty and Mr. Walker’s beauty makes him that much more intimidating. Normal people don’t look like this. This is a face and body that you come across once in your life and think about days and weeks later. Broad shoulders, thick waist, capable hands, in addition to his tasteful facial hair, his dark curls, and his piercing blue eyes, make Mr. Walker one of the most handsome men Bucky has ever come across.</p>
<p>“Y-yeah,” Bucky says, <em>already stuttering</em>, looks over at Mr. Walker and smiles politely, ‘It’s nice to see you again.” The other man smiles in response, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, purrs, “Nice to see you as well, Bucky,” and <em>oh, </em>he had forgotten about his voice, so deep and gruff and buttery. That voice coupled with the mysteriousness of this man as a whole has Bucky on edge any time they are in the same room.</p>
<p>And now he’s here in their home. <em>Why? </em></p>
<p>“Can I get you a drink, Walker?” Steve asks, hand sliding down Bucky’s back before turning towards the cabinets, Bucky peeking back up at Mr. Walker and startling some when he finds eyes on him already. He feels out of place for a plethora of different reasons but as his gaze falls to his feet he feels immensely out of place in his loungewear standing next to two men donning business wear.</p>
<p>“D’love one. I trust your judgement,” is all Mr. Walker says, tone neutral, turns to look around the kitchen, takes a few steps towards the living room, seemingly scoping the place out. Bucky watches him move confidently through the room, hears Steve behind him pouring what he is assuming is bourbon into a glass, the clink of ice, the closing of a cabinet.</p>
<p>“You have a beautiful home, Steve,” Mr. Walker compliments as Steve walks over to hand him a glass, a glass that manages to look miniature in his palm. Bucky isn’t sure if Mr. Walker means what he says, can never tell and will never know, but Steve claps him on the shoulder, thanks him. A few more words are exchanged, ones that Bucky can’t understand, but then Mr. Walker is turning to walk into the living room as Steve turns around and heads back to Bucky.</p>
<p><em>“Steve, </em>what the fuck,” he hisses, hopefully transparently frantic edge to his voice an obvious one, wanting to know right this second what is happening, “Would have appreciated a headsup. Why is he here?” Steve infuriatingly doesn’t answer right away, walks right up to Bucky and places his hands gently on each side of Bucky’s face, fingers pressing into the hinge of his jaw. Bucky has two seconds to make a noise in protest before Steve is leaning down, pressing his lips determinedly to Bucky’s, before he gets swept up and away.</p>
<p>These kisses are deep and wet, Steve physically commanding Bucky to yield, to move where Steve wants him, leaving Bucky no choice but to hold on, to grapple at the front of the older man’s dress shirt. His mouth is pressed open wide, Steve’s tongue dipping and pressing against his own and <em>oh </em>that’s so nice, makes him whimper and push up on his tiptoes, makes him want more and makes him want to forget about their guest.</p>
<p>But Steve slows them down, changes his kisses to chaste ones, ones singing a different tune, and it helps Bucky realize how tightly wound he had been. The kisses simultaneously fire him up but smooth out all the creases of his mood, of his anxieties.</p>
<p>“Buck, I’m gonna explain something to you and I want you to just listen right now. Do you understand?” Steve’s voice is but a whisper, a somewhat serious one, and Bucky can feel it on his own mouth, a puff of a breath. He nods his head in understanding, confusion bubbling up again.</p>
<p>“You have complete say in what happens tonight. Anything you do not want will not happen. Do you understand?”</p>
<p>
  <em>What? </em>
</p>
<p>He simply nods his head, is beginning to get a little scared at the seriousness of Steve’s words and his tone, is thankful he’s being held in such a way. Steve nods his head in a gesture of encouragement right alongside Bucky before whispering, “Did you know that Mr. Walker has his own boy, Buck?”</p>
<p>It’s as if Bucky can hear the gears grinding in his own head, hears them screech to a halt when he understands, when it all clicks.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh. </em>
</p>
<p>Steve sees it click too, nods his head, “He’s got his own sweet boy at home. It’s a new relationship, new for the both of them. Mr. Walker has never been a Daddy. He’s been a Dom, but he’s never been a Daddy in his relationships. You understand there can be a difference don’t you, Buck?” He thinks he does, understands that there can be a difference between the two, that to be a Daddy can mean…well mean what Steve is to him. Bucky has a Daddy, but he never had a Dom before.</p>
<p>His confusion is apparently transparent and Steve hums, rubs his thumbs along Bucky’s cheekbones, explains, “I’m your Daddy, Buck. You’re my boy. I care about you, love you dearly, want to spoil you with anything and everything,” he stops to kiss Bucky sweetly before continuing. “I am also your Dom when needed. When you’re bad you have consequences, when you’re good you get praise. You need structure and you need to let someone else be in control some of the time. I control your pleasure and you love it, <em>we </em>love it.”</p>
<p>Bucky does love it, nods his head in Steve’s hands, lets his own hands run down Daddy’s chest to his waist, his hips. Steve kisses him again.</p>
<p>“Mr. Walker has never been a Daddy until this relationship, has only had Subs but never relationships. He is used to complete and total control, to sending someone under with various tools, with pain. He’s used to being a <em>Sir.</em>” Bucky understands now, inhales a little shakily in understanding and confusion. He’s never had any interactions with such a Dom, with a <em>Sir</em>, and it makes his fingers tighten on Steve’s hips. He is clear on the difference and to merging of the two roles, but he isn’t quite sure what this has to do with him or with Steve.</p>
<p>“Mr. Walker isn’t used to being a Daddy, isn’t used to cherishing and loving and guiding in such a way…” Steve says and it’s as if he’s saying it again, wanting Bucky to understand what is words mean, watching him in a somewhat expectant way.</p>
<p>“Steve, I don’t—”</p>
<p>“He needs help, sugar. He doesn’t know what a good Daddy looks like…”</p>
<p>“But—”</p>
<p>“He needs to see what a good Daddy and a sweet boy look like when they’re together.”</p>
<p>Bucky’s brain feels like it comes together in a clusterfuck and then…<em>blanks out</em>.</p>
<p>“Do you see what I’m sayin’, honey?” Bucky can’t answer, thinks that <em>surely</em> Steve isn’t getting to…well he would say what he was thinking, but Bucky doesn’t know what he’s thinking. He just keeps looking up at Steve with wide eyes, his mouth dropped open a little bit, doesn’t realize he’s practically tearing at the front of Steve’s shirt. Does Steve want the other man to practice on Bucky? <em>No. </em>Do they just want to talk? Bucky sucks down a gasp at the wave of alarm at Mr. Walker knowing who he is to Steve, the kind of relationship they have.</p>
<p>“Bucky?”</p>
<p>“Steve, I don’t…<em>Steve</em>.” His voice cracks, doesn’t intend for it to, his emotions bubbling up in a way that makes Steve grab for him more, press his forehead against Bucky’s, tip his head up some.</p>
<p><em>“Buck</em>, baby. Mr. Walker can see how sweet you are for me, how good you are. Isn’t that nice? That he, someone on the outside, can see just how precious you are, sugar?”</p>
<p>That is nice, that does help, as do the soft kisses that Steve gives him on his lips, his cheeks. He gives himself the moment to pull Steve in tight, to press his face into the crook of the older man’s neck. Steve hums, coos, wraps his thick arms tight around Bucky’s form, his neck, and it immediately helps Bucky feel more grounded, more comforted.</p>
<p>“You’d know I’d never let anything bad happen to you, Bucky, y’know I’d kill for you.” Bucky knows that, knows he doesn’t feel nearly as safe with anyone else compared to how protected he feels with Steve, but this is unprecedented.</p>
<p><em>“Steve</em>…”</p>
<p>“I’ve been thinkin’ about it all week, sugar. Been thinkin’ about Walker in our home, seein’ my boy, more’a my boy than anyone else has.” Bucky whimpers.</p>
<p>“And <em>shit</em>, Buck maybe I’m a bad man or maybe you make me a bad man, but I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how hot it makes me.”</p>
<p><em>Oh. </em>Bucky is confused but by the way Steve whispers those words into his ear all gravelly-like, the way he squeezes on him before pulling back; it has dick <em>and </em>his ears perking up. When Steve leans back, he slips his hands to Bucky’s neck, holds onto him and tips his head up. Bucky wants a kiss, wants a bunch of them because he doesn’t know what else he wants in this moment, and Steve gives them to him. There’s a little heat behind them, a little frantic energy, and Bucky holds onto Steve’s sides, grips them like a vice.</p>
<p>“Can you imagine how I feel, baby? Someone comin’ to me, tellin’ me they see how sweet my boy is for me and they want to know more, want to know how we got here, <em>wanna see it, </em>wanna learn from us?”</p>
<p>Bucky wiggles where he stands, curls his toes some. That…that’s something. That makes him blush, he can feel it, the inadvertent compliment not lost on his own ears. Steve notices his reaction, grins something victorious, pushes Bucky back two steps until his lower back is digging into the counter some. Steve’s breath is hot on his lips and it makes Bucky want to melt right to the floor, makes him want to reach out and lick into Steve’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Wanna show you off, sugar. Wanna show Walker how perfect you are, wanna make him green with envy. You love when Daddy shows you off,” and <em>goddamn him</em>, Steve is right. He gets in such a sweet headspace so quickly when he’s glued to Steve’s arms at events, when Daddy buys him somethin’ nice to put on, when he buys him somethin’ nice to wear <em>under it</em>.</p>
<p>Bucky is getting sidetracked.</p>
<p>“You want me to show you off tonight, Buck? Y’wanna be my sweet boy, the best boy, so Mr. Walker can learn what it’s like to be a good Daddy?”</p>
<p><em>God help him</em>, he does. He doesn’t even know what the night will hold, how it will play out, but there’s never been a more significant moment for the two of them to date, can feel it. No one has ever joined them in their home in such a way, has seen Bucky naked, seen him be sweet for Daddy, has seen them fuck. Steve getting incredibly turned on from just wanting to show Bucky off makes Bucky feel <em>sweet. </em></p>
<p>It makes him feel a little sweet in the head, makes him want to tuck his face back into Daddy’s neck and murmur. It makes him feel cherished and like a little prized possession, a treasure. Daddy wants to show him off, wants to show someone else how much of a good boy he can be for Daddy. Bucky almost feels like this is his purpose, feels so compelled to answer with a yes that he trembles where he stands. He’s so incredibly aroused and so quickly all he can think about is Daddy fucking him, <em>fucking him in front of Mr. Walker, </em>and it has him moaning into Steve’s mouth at the image.</p>
<p>“Wanna be good for you, Daddy,” is what Bucky ends up breathing, hands running hot up Steve’s back and Daddy moans, makes low noises into the open-mouthed dirty kisses he gives him, the same that Bucky had been craving. The hands he has on Steve’s back come up to grip at his wrists, his hands holding either side of Bucky’s neck as he dips his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. He’s getting carried away, can’t stop himself from rolling his body into Steve’s, from pulling the older man somehow closer, back into the counter with him.</p>
<p>When Steve rumbles and sucks on Bucky’s tongue he’s almost worried he’s being too loud, knows that the noises he makes can tend to be louder than he thinks they are. He doesn’t know how to feel about him hoping that Mr. Walker can hear them from his place in the living room. They must be loud on some level because Steve is pulling back with a jolt, a small gasp, Bucky chasing after him and wanting more.</p>
<p>The look Steve gives him, the way he looks into his eyes, makes Bucky want to bare his neck like some sort of animal, makes him want to give himself entirely over to Steve. He isn’t sure if they older man sees what he is thinking, but Steve leans forward and kisses him featherlight on his lips.</p>
<p>“I’m not letting him touch you, Bucky. Do you understand? He lays one finger on you and we’re done.”</p>
<p>Bucky has such an unexpected reaction to Steve’s words that his gut curls, his eyelids droop. Steve rarely stakes his claim so strongly, natural confidence not one to be toyed with, but outwardly hearing Daddy say those words in such a serious tone has him almost whining.</p>
<p>“You understand me?” Bucky is slow to blink.</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy.” Steve kisses him again.</p>
<p>“Let’s talk about what you’re comfortable with. I know what Walker wants. I know what I want. What do you want?” Bucky’s answer is immediate and true.</p>
<p>“I want you to decide what I want.”</p>
<p>Steve’s lips are on his again, are quite obviously holding back, Steve whispering out, “<em>God, </em>I love you,” as if he can’t stop it. Bucky loves Steve too, loves him so fucking much, can barely say it back with how thick his tongue is in his mouth.</p>
<p>“I can make decisions for you, sugar, always. But I still need to know what you don’t want, need you to think. Don’t think I don’t notice you gettin’ a little sweet on me, come on.” Bucky can’t stop the small smile that tugs in the corner of his lips, leans forward to tuck his face right there back into the crook of Steve’s neck. Steve takes it in stride, wraps him up tight, kisses his temple.</p>
<p>“You okay with Mr. Walker seein’ you naked?” Bucky blushes immediately, hands sliding back around Steve’s back. He thinks about his answer, thinks about what it would be like to walk back into the living room and strip in front of the other man. The thought doesn’t terrify him like it normally would. He has his hesitations, constantly underlying, but Steve has helped him with his confidence immensely, in ways no one else has ever been able to. Bucky is much more of a sexual being because of Steve and that comes with him being more accepting of his body than he has been in years.</p>
<p>“I am,” he says in a small voice and he gets another kiss on his temple for his troubles.</p>
<p>“You okay with suckin’ my cock in front’a Mr. Walker?”</p>
<p><em>Oh, </em>that one hits a little different, makes him lean back and look up at Steve. The thought of having Daddy’s cock in his mouth is appealing, always so, but could he do that in front of someone else? There’s a warm feeling in his belly, something different and new, and Steve’s looking at him expectantly but patiently. There aren’t any reservations coming to mind but that alone has him contemplating.</p>
<p>He thinks he could but what he wants is to do it for Daddy. He wants Daddy to show him off, wants to make Daddy look good, wants to make Daddy proud. Once he thinks these thoughts, these thoughts of making Steve happy in a variety of different ways, his answer is obvious—</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes, Daddy…” </em>
</p>
<p>Steve exhales loudly, a little shaky, brings his hands up to squeeze at Bucky’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“Are you okay with me gettin’ a few fingers in you, opening you up some?” Bucky whimpers, not in humiliation, not in embarrassment—in <em>need. </em>The thought alone of Daddy fingering him open in front of another person, voice deep and soothing, thick fingers rubbing and pressing, has him short of breath. But the thought that comes along with Daddy fingering him in front of Mr. Walker is what happens next. Bucky knows what happens after Daddy’s got his fingers in him.</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy <em>yes,</em>” Bucky replies, eagerness and anticipation getting the best of him in the moment. Steve’s hands squeeze at his shoulders again, slide up his neck. Bucky likes Daddy’s hands there. He presses up on his tip-toes some, bites his bottom lip so he won’t make any sort of embarrassing noises, waits to hear those words. Steve can see it too, can sense the change of energy, the flash in Bucky’s eyes.</p>
<p>“You okay with me fuckin’ you in front of Mr. Walker?”</p>
<p>Bucky tries, genuinely tries, to not make any noises, to not make his reaction any more physical than it already is, but he fails in less than two seconds. The whine he lets out is a mixture of desperation and relief, low in the back of his throat as he surges forward on his toes again, reaching for Daddy’s mouth. His knees go weak every single goddamn time Steve says “<em>fuck”</em>, so dirty, and Steve knows this, uses it to his advantage.</p>
<p>When Bucky reaches forward, cranes his neck, Steve stops him with a single tight grip with each hand, doesn’t let him move forward or close the distance between them. But that doesn’t matter when Daddy is the one towering over Bucky, bending down to his lips and just stopping short.</p>
<p><em>“Say it,” </em>the older man breathes against Bucky’s mouth and his whole core throbs, head falling back into Daddy’s grip, his hands.  </p>
<p>“Wan’you to <em>fuck</em> me in front of Mr. Walker, Daddy.”</p>
<p>He presses forward as he says it, tests Daddy’s strength and grip, spits it out with a little bit of bite and Steve growls into his chuckle. The nip to his bottom lip he deserves for being a little bit of a brat and the suck on said bottom lip and the all-consuming filthy kiss he gets he also deserves. Bucky is feeling fiery, feels a little cocky under Daddy’s hands and lips and looks, leans into the challenge and opportunity that Steve has presented them with.  </p>
<p><em>“Shit</em>, Buck this is…this is big. This is unlike anything we’ve ever done. You’re okay? You’re sure you’re okay, baby?”</p>
<p>Bucky is and what is almost concerning is how entirely unconcerned he is about what the night presents. His anxieties and hesitancies are nowhere to be seen, aren’t in the back of his brain gnawing at him. He feels like everything they’ve been working towards is this moment, and that’s absolutely ridiculous to think about, but it’s how Bucky feels and he won’t ignore it. Bucky wants the opportunity to show off and to make Steve look like the best Daddy in the world, but more importantly this night will show how strong they are together. It will show how well they compliment one another, how they give and take, <em>how perfect they are for each other. </em></p>
<p>It feels like the chance of a lifetime for Bucky, for Steve, <em>for them. </em></p>
<p>“Yes, Steve—I’m sure. <em>I’m sure</em>,” he says with hefty confidence, nods his head, says Steve’s actual name. No <em>Daddy</em> for this conversation; this is his Steve he’s talking to, no titles. Bucky feels like the gaze that he and Steve share in the next few moments could hold bricks, could withstand fire. It’s passionate and purposeful, as if they’re locking into each other with what they know and what they don’t know is about to come. Bucky has only seen Steve so emotive a handful of other times and it makes Bucky lean forward and press a few frantic kisses to Steve’s lips, his chin, his cheeks.</p>
<p>“I know you’ll keep me safe.”</p>
<p>Bucky doesn’t even know why he says it, just bubbles up from within, comes out in a little whisper after he pulls back and looks right into Steve’s eyes again. What he finds in those eyes is water, not just their deep blue but the way they look like they’re about to spill over, with tears. One of Steve’s strong hands catches Bucky’s jaw to still them and then gentles, cradling Bucky’s face like it’s something delicate and precious to behold.</p>
<p>“That’s—that’s just it, babylove. That’s what I want to show him tonight.”</p>
<p>Bucky can hardly comprehend the power behind the raw devotion in Steve’s voice, presses their foreheads together intimately and again. It takes Bucky a moment to remember that the “<em>him” </em>Steve is talking about is Mr. Walker, the man in their living room. He’s so focused on Steve right now, <em>on them, </em>that he forgets.</p>
<p>“Wanna,” Steve continues, takes a steadying breath, "wanna show him that your Daddy knows just how to keep you safe.”</p>
<p>Bucky is so in love with this man it <em>hurts</em>. Every breath he takes after hearing those words feels like it fills his entire existence with indescribable adoration, such intense emotions he’s worried he’s going to float away. Coupled with the look that Bucky gets with those words, Steve so rarely getting as emotional as he sees right now, has Bucky’s breath stuttering in his chest, his lungs. He doesn’t know what else to say aside from, “<em>I love you</em>,” and <em>fuck</em> he means it so much, but why doesn’t it feel like enough? </p>
<p>“I love you too, Bucky. Love you so much,” Steve murmurs into his lips and Bucky has never felt more ready to show anyone, to show Steve, just how devoted he is to his Daddy.</p>
<p>They take a few moments to breathe each other in, to process what has just transpired. Bucky recaps the conversation, that he is going to suck on Daddy’s cock, get fingered open, <em>get fucked</em>, in front of Mr. Walker and no panic rises through his system. He’s ready for this.</p>
<p>What he isn’t ready for is for Steve to whisper, “You wanna wear your collar, Buck?”</p>
<p>Bucky sways where he stands, his exhale a sheer whine, and Steve’s arm goes tight around his waist, dips a little. Daddy’s other hand plants itself on the side of his neck, the older man’s lips pressing tight against his temple, holds him in place and at his mercy.</p>
<p><em>“Ohh, </em>sweet boy you do, don’t you? Want you to wear nothin’ but that collar in front of Mr. Walker. Would you do that for me, Buck? Get all naked and pretty for Daddy?”</p>
<p>Bucky feels like he’s underwater, digs his fingers into Daddy’s shirt, scrambles for any kind of purchase even though he is so thoroughly grounded in this moment. The lips on his temple purse a few times and his heart, his breathing, <em>his life, </em>stutters as he reaches for his own neck.</p>
<p><em>His collar</em>.</p>
<p>Bucky loves his collar. It’s soft and velvety and a sweet dusty blue and has a pretty diamond (<em>an actual diamond</em>) embedded right in the center of it. He wears it for Daddy for many different reasons, but all of them always revolve around his devotion: his devotion for their love, his devotion for his Daddy, his devotion for <em>them. </em>Bucky loves wearing his collar, slipped and floated right away the first time Daddy clasped it around his neck. It’s delicate and makes him feel pretty and makes him feel <em>owned</em> and he wants to wear it tonight.</p>
<p>“Daddy, <em>please</em>?” he insists, neck weak but wiggling in his spot, in Daddy’s grip. Steve purrs, tips Bucky’s face up with fingers under his chin. His eyes are more in-control now, less emotional but still wild nonetheless. Bucky wants to drown in them.</p>
<p>“Go get it, sugar,” is all Steve whispers before he’s kissing Bucky once on the lips and patting his hip, a physical sign to move and Bucky does. He feels like he floats to their room on a cloud, feels as if his chin is still tilted up, his lips still pursed. All he can think about is Daddy’s eyes and how warm they were, how they gazed down at Bucky with faithfulness and love.</p>
<p>He glides to the closet, to Daddy’s drawers, the one specifically set aside for Bucky under Steve’s watches. He pulls the drawer open, runs his fingers along his silver chain, damn near gasps when his fingers run across the fuzziness of his collar. It’s so soft. Bucky loves his collar. He loves the way it feels on his neck, the way it feels so smooth but so heavy around his neck, both in intention and in physicality.</p>
<p>He loves how it makes him want to giggle, how it makes him want to nuzzle and be sweet, loves how much Daddy loves to see him in it. Daddy calls him “princess” and tells him how gorgeous he is and how he wants to eat Bucky right up. Sometimes when Daddy is fucking into him he’ll wrap his hand around their collar, not even tight but it makes Bucky feel like he’s suffocating, makes him come every goddamn time.</p>
<p>Bucky loves his collar.</p>
<p>When he gets back into the kitchen Steve is waiting for him patiently, leaning back against the counter of the island. Bucky has been gone for maybe ninety seconds and he misses Steve, lights up like he’s gone days without him. His fingers tremble, his hands tremble, his chest trembles as he walks up to Steve and puts his hand out in front of him and he stands toe to toe with the other man.</p>
<p>Steve makes a noise, a content one, when he sees the collar in Bucky’s hand. Bucky didn’t dare try and put it on himself, their shared agreement being he is the one to put it on Bucky each time. When Steve takes the collar from his hands, he does it with such grace that it makes Bucky whimper, makes his toes curl into the wood floor beneath him. There’s a hand on his hip and he’s turning, facing away from Daddy, back warmed by Steve’s front, hands lowering themselves from above Bucky’s head.</p>
<p>It takes his breath away every time.</p>
<p>As soon as he feels the expensive fabric curl around his neck, he feels like he reaches a higher plane of existence. It’s like time slows down, like he’s a ball of sensation, like all he can hear is his own and Daddy’s breathing and all he can feel is the weight of the collar around the column of his throat. Bucky knows his collar is on and fastened because Daddy gives him a handful of sweet kisses on the back of his neck each time. They’re gentle and chaste, hands squeezing at his shoulders, down his sides.</p>
<p>“You okay, sugar bear?” Daddy whispers in his ear and Bucky feels like he wants to sink into the older man’s voice the same way he sinks into bed each night. This is home, this is safety, this is love. His eyes are closed as he reaches up to feel the fabric wrapped around his skin, the difference under his fingertips between the two surfaces. His finger runs across the diamond, he keens and whispers—</p>
<p><em>“Yes, Daddy</em>.”</p>
<p>“You look beautiful, baby. My sweet boy.” Bucky <em>preens. </em></p>
<p>Bucky’s next few breaths are clearer than crystal. He revels in that grounded feeling, lets it consume him wholly, tips his neck to the side to let Daddy keep kissing at it. The older man doesn’t let things escalate this time, keeps his kisses hot but short, doesn’t even give Bucky enough time to grind back into that crotch before he is turning Bucky around to face him.</p>
<p><em>Oh, </em>it’s happening.</p>
<p>“You ready?” Bucky swallows, feels his heart slam against his ribcage violently. He had almost forgotten about Mr. Walker waiting in the living room.</p>
<p>“I am. Yes, Daddy.”  Steve sighs at Bucky’s words, squeezes Bucky’s sides, rubs his hands up and down them, palms wide, fingers spread.</p>
<p>“Traffic lights as normal. If your mouth is full, snap your fingers. Walker will not touch you even once tonight and you are in complete control here. Do you understand, Bucky?”</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s happening. </em>
</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy.” He gets a kiss on his lips for his sweet response.</p>
<p>“I love you.”</p>
<p>“I love you too, Steve.”</p>
<p>And then Steve is taking his hand and guiding him into the living room. It’s an odd feeling, walking into the living room knowing while also having absolutely no clue what is going to happen. He grips Daddy’s hand like a vice, cups his other hand around the bicep said hand is attached to, hears his footsteps more than he feels them, floor cool under his feet. When he swallows audibly, nervously, he feels his throat bob against the collar, <em>a reminder</em>, and it’s a comforting gesture.</p>
<p>A comforting gesture and then some is what he needs as soon as he takes a few steps down into the living room and sees Mr. Walker sitting there in one of their armchairs. His presence is much stronger this time around and Bucky tries his hardest to not cower into Steve’s shoulder but it’s so fucking hard when Mr. Walker’s eyes are on them as soon as they take a step down.</p>
<p>He feels naked and he hasn’t even taken a piece of clothing off. <em>Oh god, </em>he’s going to take his clothes off.</p>
<p>“Alright, Walker…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I probably won't be on any sort of strict posting schedule. I'd love to hear your thoughts and what you have to say! Kudos, comments, kindly-worded critiques, love. Come chat with me on Tumblr @howdoyousleeep3! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“How does it make you feel when I tell you you’re a good boy, Buck?” Daddy asks and Bucky can’t even stop the small noise of acknowledgement he lets out without resistance.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you love...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>“Alright, Walker</em>,” Steve starts, voice already authoritative and purposeful, hearing it startling yet comforting. They come to a halt in front of the coffee table, in front of Mr. Walker, a unit together, a united front. Bucky swallows again. Mr. Walker looks up at them, bourbon glass in hand, and the look on his face is a calm and kind one, one that is neutral and steady. Bucky knew it before this moment, but that face is unnerving, is going to cause some anxieties to bubble up throughout the course of events this evening.</p><p>“Bucky has decided to accept your proposition and I think it’s incredibly important we are on the same page before we begin.” Mr. Walker nods, agrees with a curt, “Of course,” before Steve continues.</p><p>“We use a simple traffic light system. If you hear Bucky say <em>‘yellow’ </em>I need you to leave the room. If you hear him say <em>‘red’ </em>I need you to leave the house.” Bucky presses his cheek into the side of Steve’s arm, swallows down his whine at the thought of things getting to that point during all of this. Daddy won’t let that happen. Steve is quiet and waits for a response, gets a curt, “Understood.” Steve continues.</p><p>“Bucky has let me know what he is comfortable with and I will follow through with that accordingly. I think it’s important for you to understand that you will not touch Bucky in any way—”</p><p>“Rogers, we already—”</p><p><em>“I need Bucky to hear it.</em>” Bucky feels like he’s vibrating out of his skin, fingers squeezing tight on Steve’s own. There are a few beats of silence and then Steve is talking again.</p><p>“You will not touch Bucky in any way, not even one finger. Do you understand?” Bucky chances a glance up, feels this is a moment where he should be looking at Mr. Walker, and when their eyes meet, their guest clearly says, “I understand.” Steve isn’t done.</p><p>“If you touch Bucky in any way, <em>one hair on his head</em>, we are through. Am I clear?” Daddy’s voice is <em>mean</em>, is angry, makes Bucky whimper a little and he tries to swallow it down before Mr. Walker is responding with, “Crystal.”</p><p>“Excellent. You are a guest in our house this evening, a guest into our lives. We understand why you are here and we are willing to help you but you are in no way in charge here, in any aspect. Bucky is in control and I am in charge. I know that may be hard for you to grasp but Bucky listens to me and only me. Does this make sense?”</p><p>Bucky knows he has the best Daddy in the world, but Bucky has the best Daddy in the whole entire world. He hadn’t known he had needed to hear those words before this moment, not again and not in front of Mr. Walker, but by the way his chest clears with a few deeps breaths those words were necessary.</p><p>Mr. Walker looks at the two of them carefully, as if he’s already taking in information and scribbling down notes in his brain. He glances between them, eyes dancing around Bucky’s neck, and it makes him feel a little pretty, a little proud, that someone is looking at his Daddy’s collar. Before Bucky’s blush can bloom fully, Mr. Walker is responding with, “I am here to learn.” And just like that, albeit a little rocky for a few seconds, roles are established, rules are clarified and set in place, and with nothing left to say that only means one thing—to begin.</p><p>“Beautiful,” Steve comments, a little cheerier than previously, the tension dissipating with one word and Steve turning to Bucky.</p><p>“Buck, you mind takin’ your clothes off for us, please?”</p><p>It’s so casually asked, like Steve would ask Bucky to hand him his phone or turn the volume up on the television, that it leaves Bucky standing there like a fool. Steve is patient, always patient, and when Bucky looks up at the older man the look on his own face is transparent enough for Steve to give him an encouraging nod. He’s…<em>oh. </em>Okay—he can do this.</p><p>His fingers quiver as they reach for the hem of his shirt and he pulls at it with such franticness that the clothing slips from his fingertips a few times. Bucky’s mental curses almost become verbal ones with how quickly frustrated he gets. His first fucking direction and he can’t get it right, mucks it up right from the beginning, in front of <em>two </em>men, in front of his Daddy and the man that is here to learn from his Daddy. How is he supposed to learn when Bucky—</p><p>Steve’s hands engulf Bucky’s own in a move that rips him from his chaotic line of thought. There’s no pause in movement, no need to stop and exchange words. Steve’s hands guide his own, grab for the bottom of his shirt confidently, pulls it up, up, <em>up </em>until it is up and over his head. The cooler chill to the air is welcomed, as are Steve’s hands gliding up and down his sides, and it all clears Bucky’s head a little. When he looks up at Daddy his comfort is extended to another level by just the way Steve is looking down at him with a warm smile.</p><p>Bucky gets a few chaste kisses, a hand under his chin, and then Steve is handing Bucky’s shirt off to him and stepping back to sit on the couch.</p><p>“Go on, baby.”</p><p>Bucky has the best Daddy in the whole entire world.</p><p>His hands still tremble as he folds his shirt up carefully, maybe too carefully, but there’s no harm in being too cautious with double the amount of eyes on him. When his shirt is nice and folded, he places it carefully down on the coffee table and reaches for the waistband of his shorts. The shirt was the easier piece of clothing to remove, the piece that revealed nothing that most people hadn’t seen before, that Bucky was comfortable showing. He knows that this is it, that a stranger will see him naked as soon as he drops his pants, knows he isn’t wearing underwear beneath them.</p><p>He pushes at his waistband before he can have any more thoughts that might prevent him from being a good boy.</p><p>He realizes in this moment then that there will be almost no way Bucky will make eye contact with Mr. Walker throughout this entire experience. How can he look this man in his eyes when he is going to see Bucky in a way that only one other person has ever seen him?</p><p>His eyes drop to his feet. He watches his ankles as he steps out of his shorts. He hears Steve make a pleased little hum at either the sight of Bucky naked or the surprise of him not wearing underwear under his shorts. Either way, it smooths out his tremors only slightly at being completely naked in front of two different people. His hands shake as he reaches for his shorts, reminds himself to not lock his knees because if he passed out right now it would be incredibly unfortunate.</p><p>He knows he is about half-hard, knows his dick is fattening up and betraying him but also knows it will probably start softening as his thoughts get the best of him, start to overwhelm him. His shorts are folded before he’s even realized he’s started to move his hands and he bends and places them on top of his shirt just like he was taught. The room is deafeningly quiet, the small hum of the television on in the background, and he realizes he probably looks a little silly looking down at his feet.</p><p>He looks up, acts with his first thought and figures that’s the mindset he should get into at this point, finds Steve’s eyes.</p><p>Daddy looks like <em>power, </em>drips it from his head to his toes. His eyes are on Bucky’s as soon as the younger looks up and they’re so intense Bucky can’t help but drop his mouth open in response a tad. He looks like he owns this room, owns this moment, <em>owns Bucky</em>. White dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, navy blue dress pants, slim silver watch, beautifully trimmed facial hair that Bucky wants to rub his cheek against; Bucky wants Daddy to fuck him.</p><p><em>“Damn</em>, Bucky I never get tired of seein’ you like this. You’re so pretty, baby—<em>beautiful</em>. Ain’t he pretty, Walker?”</p><p>Bucky is able to preen for half a second before their guest’s name comes out of Steve’s mouth and then it’s something like panic that strikes him again. He’s blushing as Steve begins to talk but he’s beet red by the time he finishes his sentence. Bucky hadn’t thought about Steve having Mr. Walker talk to him during this. Bucky doesn’t know why he just assumed Mr. Walker would sit in the corner and simply observe. Of course he would talk and interact during this time.</p><p>Bucky is somewhat humiliated and embarrassed but also a tiny bit thrilled. Who knows what Daddy can do with this possibility?</p><p>“He is indeed, Rogers. You’re quite the lucky man,” Mr. Walker responds in a cool voice, one that makes his words sound empty but words that still make Bucky’s blush spread to his neck, can feel the pool. He wiggles on his toes, does the same with his fingers hanging by his side, listens as Steve hums in agreement.</p><p>“What do you say, Bucky?” Bucky is quick to respond to the simple command.</p><p>“T-thank you, Mr. Walker.”</p><p>It feels odd addressing the other man, hasn’t done it much or if any up to this point. Mr. Walker is real and is here, looking at Bucky’s naked form, telling Daddy that he’s pretty and that Daddy is a “lucky man”. The praise is direct yet feels indirect not coming from Daddy. Either way it makes him roll his neck a little, makes his chest expand heavily with his next few breaths as he lets the syrupy feel of praise settle in his spine, in his neck.</p><p>“Buck?” Steve asks and he leaves it open, waits for Bucky to listen, waits for him to <em>respond. </em></p><p>“Yes, Daddy?” His voice sounds so small and he curses inwardly at himself. He needs to speak up, needs to be purposeful with everything he does tonight. He isn’t ashamed to be Daddy’s boy and everyone needs to know that; he’s proud and he should show that, especially tonight. He raises his chin, looks at Daddy as he speaks to him.</p><p>“Will you go grab the bottle of bourbon and an extra glass and bring it back in here for us? Fill our glasses back up?” That’s easy, mundane. Bucky soaks it right up.</p><p>“Yes, Daddy.”</p><p>“Thank you, baby.”</p><p>Bucky is surprised his legs even work, that one foot manages to step in front of the other at a decent pace even with wobbly knees. He keeps his chin raised, tilted, as he walks past Mr. Walker in his chair, doesn’t want to think about the pairs of eyes that follow his movement. He’s naked. He knows it, can feel a breeze where he normally can’t with clothes on. He’s naked and everyone knows and it’s fine. He’s made this trip just as he is many times before and he can do it now when it matters most.  He can hear Steve talking as he enters the kitchen but is just out of earshot to make out distinct words. He isn’t sure if he wants to hear what Steve is saying to Mr. Walker but there is curiosity there nonetheless.</p><p>When he pads quietly back into the living room the atmosphere has shifted into something more normal, something that makes Bucky relax a little more, makes his breathing even out. He’s grateful that Steve chose to start with something that is as easy as this, something simple to focus on, something where he can use his hands and doesn’t have to think about in depth.</p><p>He moves to Steve first, <em>always</em>, hands the older man his glass, plucks the top from the whiskey bottle. When he tips the bottle down towards Steve’s glass, the ice moving within it a pleasant clinking noise, he feels a familiar hand on his hip, one that is warm and large, one that strokes the skin from side to ass. His eyelids flutter a little as he tips the bottle back up, more than a generous pour now in Steve’s glass, and Bucky wants to lean into this hand, wants to stay right here. It’s beyond comforting.</p><p>He loves his Daddy.</p><p>A gentle, <em>“Thank you, sugar,” </em>and a pat on his hip, a simple one as Steve sits back into the couch, makes his attention shift to Mr. Walker. Steve’s touch is still warm on his hip, his side, when he walks over to the other man. It isn’t lost on Bucky, the sheer and quite frankly shocking presence Mr. Walker has in a room, but he faces the natural intimidation head-on. He’s naked, <em>free of all clothing, </em>and standing with his dick damn near eye-level with Mr. Walker when he puts his hand out in front of him.</p><p>Bucky can <em>feel </em>Mr. Walker’s eyes on him before he even realizes they are indeed soaking in his form. He can feel and then eventually sees the way they rove up his body slowly, drinking him in, before Mr. Walker places his glass gently into his palm. Bucky smiles tightly at their guest before letting more bourbon fall into his glass by the tilt of the bottle. He takes the few seconds he’s given to assess his feelings and he isn’t sure how he feels right now, about having another man’s eyes on him, but this isn’t something that he’s going to be entirely comfortable with right away.</p><p>Daddy would never put him in any kind of danger and Bucky reminds himself that he is the one in control tonight. Those two things are cushions of support he falls back onto as he allows him to show himself grace.</p><p>When he hands his glass back to Mr. Walker, he meets those crystal blue eyes, nods his head rather stiffly as he goes to turn but a sharp noise, Daddy’s noise, stops him in his tracks. His head snaps over to where Steve sits on the couch, thinking of what he could have possibly done wrong, but Steve is quick to ease those worries.</p><p>“That was good, sugar. Perfect,” Steve says as he holds his glass on his knee, other hand on his chin, and Bucky’s chest loosens. “You like being told you’ve done a good job, don’t you? You like hearing me give you praise?”</p><p>What an easy yet loaded fucking question. Bucky loves Steve’s praise. He eats it up, strives for it, <em>lives for it. </em>To say that Bucky likes being told he is good is an understatement yet accurate. Daddy’s praise can make his worst days his best, can pull him out of his head when needed, can send him off to a sweet spot more than action can. Bucky loves Steve’s praise.</p><p>He’s nodding his head before he is speaking, manages to breathe out a small, “<em>Uh-huh</em>…” but Steve is already smiling like he knows the answer. Of course he knows the answer; he knows Bucky better than he knows himself.</p><p>“How does it make you feel when I tell you you’re a good boy, Buck?” Daddy asks and Bucky can’t even stop the small noise of acknowledgement he lets out without resistance. How is Bucky supposed to answer that properly and articulately? He looks at Steve, that kind patient look on his face, centers himself and looks within, tries to grasp at a feeling, one that he is incredibly familiar with.</p><p>“It…it makes me feel like I’m worthy. Like I’m m-meant to be here with…with you.” He looks at Steve as he speaks.</p><p>“What else?” Bucky’s grip on the bourbon bottle doesn’t require two hands but he gives it that anyway, gives his fingers something to do.</p><p>“I um…it makes me want to smile, makes me want to do more things that make you tell me I’m good. It…it’s arousing to hear you say I’m a g-good boy.” Bucky doesn’t miss the way Steve’s tongue slides along his bottom lip, doesn’t miss the way the older man lets his eyes wander a bit before he speaks again.</p><p>“You’re a good boy, Bucky,” Daddy purrs and Bucky doesn’t even stop himself from letting out another small noise, this one a whine. It makes his head feel a little heavy, makes him want to crawl his way over to Daddy’s lap, makes him want something in his mouth.</p><p>“Thank you, Daddy,” he murmurs out, biting his lip a little after he does so.</p><p>“Do you think Mr. Walker should give you some praise for having done a good job, even if it was something simple?”</p><p>Bucky is immediately uncomfortable with the question, with the possibility of telling Mr. Walker what he should be doing. The answer is simple in his head; Yes. Mr. Walker should tell Bucky he did a good job because the small <em>good boy</em>’s mean just as much as the larger ones. He recognizes that he isn’t technically the one telling Mr. Walker what to do, that Daddy just asked him a question and he’d be answering him. He’s okay.</p><p>“I do. I think it’s important,” Bucky murmurs in response, looks down at the floor for a few seconds before looking back up at Steve. He knew the answer before it was out of Bucky’s mouth, knew Bucky as a person and knew how important simple praise is as a good Daddy, the best Daddy. Steve nods his head softly, flicks his eyes down and over to Mr. Walker, says, “Why don’t you tell Bucky he did a good job, Walker,” and <em>oh</em> that…that sounds like a command, sounds like he’s telling Bucky he should do something, that voice.</p><p>It makes Bucky wiggle on his feet. If this were anyone else, anyone who he didn’t know was a Dom, Bucky would be incredibly hurt. But this is Steve <em>domming </em>another Dom, trying to control another person who is entirely used to the same control that Daddy has. He’s almost sure Steve isn’t doing it on purpose, a sheer reaction to adjusting the situation they’re in, but either way Bucky feels lightheaded at his Daddy’s power.</p><p>Mr. Walker seems to notice too because he isn’t quick to respond. Bucky wants so badly to look down at their guest, to see how he is reacting to such a question, but the tension holds him back. He stands there and stares at his feet, glances up at Steve a few times, until Mr. Walker’s voice cuts through everything.</p><p>“Thank you, Bucky. You did an excellent job.”</p><p>It’s off, wrong for a few different reasons, but it’s praise nonetheless, has his heart fluttering in his chest. He nods, does this weird little bow thing maybe, responds with a quiet, “T-thank you, Mr. Walker,” before he’s putting the cap back onto the bottle and placing it on the coffee table to this left. When he looks back up at Daddy for further guidance Steve is already there with a soft smile on his lips.</p><p>“C’mere, sugar—between my legs.”</p><p>Once again, it’s a command that Bucky can and is eager to follow, something he is familiar with. He tries not to scurry over to his new spot between Daddy’s legs, but it is quite obvious that he is very eager to get there. It has been quite a long time since he’s knelt in front of Daddy in such a way and he’s very fond of this position, finds comfort in it on multiple levels.</p><p>When he’s knelt there, Steve’s hand is immediately on his head, thick fingers digging into his scalp and running through his hair in a way that has Bucky letting out a noise that is akin to a purr. Steve asks him if he wants a pillow for his knees, his legs, and surprisingly enough he does not need one. Daddy’s hand guides, presses him to lean his head down onto one of Daddy’s powerful thighs, and as soon as Bucky understands what’s happening, he’s moving willingly.</p><p>More than willingly—eagerly. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised at Steve knowing exactly what Bucky needs every single goddamn time, but it leaves him breathless nonetheless. His eyelids are immediately heavy and he feels himself curl up into his body, into the floor and into Daddy’s embrace. He’s once again reminded that they haven’t done this in so so long and he tries his hardest to remind himself that to ask Steve for it after this night is over.</p><p>He resists the urge to put something in his mouth, his own fingers being the closest and most reliable, and instead rubs his face, his nose, into Daddy’s thigh with a little wiggle. He moans a little when he feels the wide span of Steve’s palm glide and press alongside his fingers, feels the weight of it on his skull.</p><p>“Walker, how has business with Tony been? Well, I guess I should ask how <em>adjusting </em>to Tony has been…”</p><p>The sound of Steve’s voice is as soothing as the fingers in his hair are. Mr. Walker has a nice voice too—it’s about as deep but crisp and sharp. The two voices together discussing things that Bucky could honestly care less about (in a loving way of course) sends him retreating in his mind in less than two minutes. He hears Walker talking about his time adjusting to working at Steve’s office and alongside Tony. He hears Steve chuckling under his breath, no doubt about some shit Tony has tried to pull that the two of them find common ground on. He hears the ice clink around the glasses and his own belly gets warm, surely as Steve’s does, from sipping on bourbon, but his own at the sheer thought of Daddy drinking.</p><p>It’s nice to not have much to focus on or worry about. He is naturally thinking about the fact that he’s naked and sitting at his Daddy’s feet while an acquaintance sits not ten feet from them, but it doesn’t feel like anything that brings him anxiety anymore. This position makes it feel more normalized, more comfortable. As comfortable as it can be.</p><p>Different bits of conversation pull Bucky from his head from time to time: raised voices, barks of laughter, Steve’s hand coming to life in his hair again. At one point, Steve rubs behind Bucky’s ear as he asks Mr. Walker if he’d like more to drink, a headsup of sorts, but their guest declines and Bucky relaxes back into his position at Daddy’s leg.   </p><p>This little cloud is warm and comfortable, so much so that he doesn’t realize the conversation has been shifted to Bucky himself. He hears what they’re saying but lacks the skills to comprehend that it is about him. He hears Mr. Walker ask Daddy, “<em>Is he always this docile? Surely not,” </em>to which he hears the response given of, <em>“Ohh, there are times when Buck wants to fight me, wants to be a brat, but they’re rare. Bucky’s a natural, has needed a Daddy for a while but didn’t really know it. He’s a perfect sweet boy.” </em></p><p>Those words and another scratch behind his ear have him opening his eyes, turning his head to look up at Daddy. Steve tells him he’s perfect all the time, more than he should, but hearing him say that he has no flaws to someone else has him wanting to grin, has him wanting to kiss at Daddy’s hand, his cheek, his lips. In this moment that urge feels like nothing he’s ever felt, has never felt so compelled to love on Daddy so immediately after hearing how good of a boy he is.</p><p>“What about the times he isn’t sweet? What do you do then?” Steve is looking down at Bucky as Mr. Walker talks and even when the topic of his bratty behavior is brought up, the devotion in Daddy’s eyes doesn’t waiver.</p><p>“Communicate. I tell him how his behavior makes me feel, what type of punishment I feel he deserves, if he agrees,” Steve murmurs without breaking eye contact with Bucky, runs his thumb down and along his bottom lip. Bucky licks at it sheepishly.</p><p>“You let him decide on punishments with you?” Bucky can practically hear Walker’s eyebrows hit the roof. Steve sticks his thumb in Bucky’s mouth as he answers, looking over at Mr. Walker for the first time since they began this portion of their conversation.</p><p>“Absolutely. If I were his Dom, no way in hell. But I’m Bucky’s Daddy—” Bucky can’t help but make a little noise around Daddy’s thumb at these words— “, and if Bucky is a bad boy he needs to learn in a gentle way, a soft way. He needs to know what I’m thinking and that I care about him during a punishment, that we’re in it together and will get through his punishment as one.”</p><p>Bucky barely hears the hum that Mr. Walker lets out, but it’s there, the consideration. He had almost forgotten that Steve was supposed to be <em>teaching </em>Mr. Walker, that the other man wasn’t there to simply observe, and the thought of him being a test subject of sorts has him squirming.</p><p>“What sort of punishments do you utilize?” Walker asks and Bucky doesn’t like this question, wants to go back to talking about how good of a boy he is, how him and Daddy are a team. Steve hums, a little amused noise, takes a casual sip from his glass, and Bucky finds himself sucking on Daddy’s thumb in reflex, swirling his tongue around the tip. It makes him go a little sweet in the head, the realities of him being discussed as if he weren’t in the room, as if he doesn’t need to be there, becoming more real.</p><p>It makes him whimper around Daddy’s thumb.</p><p>“That one was tough. Buck didn’t have a lick of experience with what I brought to the table in our relationship therefore we learned together as we went. Spankings only sometimes work because Bucky can <em>want </em>those and that immediately disqualifies it as a punishment.”</p><p><em>God, </em>it doesn’t matter if he were here or not but the fact that he is and that he is <em>naked and kneeling on the floor</em> during this conversation makes the warmth of arousal pool at the base of his neck. Two Daddies, one a beginner and one a pro, <em>discussing </em>Bucky as if he were an object?</p><p>Bucky can barely stand it.</p><p>Daddy is right though. There are times when Bucky wants spankings for a variety of different reasons, but he has grown to enjoy those. He remembers that one moan that slipped from between his lips while he was over Daddy’s knee, the way Steve’s hand stopped, the way it reached around at cupped Bucky’s package like he fucking owned it.</p><p><em>“You’re enjoyin’ this too much, aren’t you, boy?” </em>Daddy had whispered gruffly, and the jig was up.</p><p>“What works the best is if I edge him real good,” and Daddy saying that, spouting off intimate knowledge about him in such a way, has Bucky’s dick almost rock-hard, “Bucky is spoiled, just expects to get what he wants when he wants it, so to take that away from him and to deny him again and again makes him real upset and apologetic.”</p><p>Bucky’s hips are rolling into the floor, into the couch, before his brain has any say in it.</p><p>“What also works, if he’s real bad and needs a heavy hand, is ignoring him. I’ve only had to sit Bucky in the corner once or twice and there’s a reason for that—Bucky hates it.”</p><p>Bucky <em>does </em>hate it. He absolutely detests not having even a single ounce of Steve’s attention. Maybe Daddy is right—Bucky is spoiled. That makes not having Daddy’s attention that much more hurtful. He realizes with a whine that spit is beginning to leak out the corner of his mouth, that as more time goes on, the harder it is to stay aware and engaged in this conversation. When he slurps around Daddy’s thumb it’s a <em>loud </em>noise. Bucky feels like he can hear it echo to the next block, and it makes Bucky sob around Steve’s thumb, makes his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.</p><p><em>“Hush, </em>Bucky.”</p><p>It’s patient but it’s firm and Bucky nods his head, swallows down his noises as Daddy pulls his thumb from Bucky’s mouth with a whimper. He isn’t sure if it’s what Daddy wants but his head naturally tilts and falls rather gracelessly back onto Steve’s thigh. Bucky barely feels Daddy wipe his sloppy thumb on his cheek, ridding it of his own spit.</p><p>Bucky’s hips roll uselessly yet again.</p><p>“He reaches Subspace quite easily doesn’t he?” he hears Mr. Walker ask and even the mention of that sweet space has Bucky’s eyelids drooping, has his breathing evening out. He hadn’t thought much about Mr. Walker <em>watching </em>him in this moment between Daddy’s legs, and he blushes profusely at remembering he had just spent a few minutes sucking on Daddy’s thumb.</p><p>There is a hand back in his hair and it is just as soothing as it was before. He thinks he hums but he isn’t sure. Daddy hums; that he can hear.</p><p><em>“He does</em>,” Daddy answers, and Bucky can’t even begin to comprehend the intimate knowledge that Steve discloses, “Getting fucked good gets him there on a low level almost every time. He’s got a sensitive sweet spot. Even a good fingering can get him there, a few fingers. He loves that, even in his mouth. Sometimes I can just talk about what I want to do to him and his tight little body and he gets there.”</p><p>Bucky feels like he’s on his way now even if it isn’t a hefty feeling right away. He takes a few moments to himself to comprehend what is happening in this room. He’s more comfortable now that he’s in such a position, Daddy’s hands on him and his mouth full for a few minutes. Mr. Walker is still a little intimidating but isn’t nearly as scary as he was when he walked in. The part that feels like molten lava in his tummy is listening to Daddy and Mr. Walker have a conversation <em>about </em>him.</p><p>He’s the one who loves spankings and hates timeout. He’s the one that has a Daddy who is compassionate and considerate. He’s the one who gets fucked to that sweet space, who loves a good fingerbang, who is so easy his Daddy can <em>talk</em> Bucky to his sweet space. He’s the slut.</p><p>And he knows this, Daddy and him both know this, but to <em>hear </em>it out loud, to hear Daddy talk about Bucky as if he’s been studying him for years like a piece of art or a second language, makes him want to weep. Steve pays attention, Bucky knows this, but <em>Steve pays attention. </em>Steve knows all of these nooks and crannies of Bucky’s life, his mindset, his brain, <em>his body, </em>better than anyone, <em>better than Bucky himself. </em>To have Daddy spout this information to a colleague, an acquaintance, as if this were casual business talk—</p><p>Bucky might come untouched and humiliated in this sweet little headspace.</p><p>“Have you gotten your boy to float?” Steve asks and he can hear Mr. Walker adjust in his seat; it’s the only way Bucky realizes his eyes aren’t open.</p><p>“I…I haven’t yet. I think that has to do with our trust in one another. I don’t think it’s built up enough for him to let himself or me get him there. I…” and Bucky can hear, can feel, his hesitation, but he isn’t surprised; Mr. Walker doesn’t seem like someone who trusts others easily. “I have never gotten someone there without force. I’ve never…never been sweet one someone like this.”</p><p>Bucky has the oddest urge to crawl over to Mr. Walker and to nuzzle into his leg, to bring him some sort of comfort. Bucky doubted if Mr. Walker could be a good Daddy but the way the other man sounds when he says those words and talks about his boy, kind of sad, shows some hope that he can be soft.</p><p>“It won’t be easy but if the two of you grow and cultivate that relationship it will be well worth it,” Daddy says, and Bucky loves his Daddy. He’s so comforting and guiding, no wonder other people rely on and look up to him.</p><p>“Maybe your boy and my boy could have a little play date.”</p><p>Bucky almost chokes on his next breath.</p><p><em>Play date? </em>Like…?</p><p><em>“Mmm</em>, that could be quite interesting, Rogers. Your boy and my boy? The fun they could have…”</p><p><em>“Ohh</em>.”</p><p>Bucky hears it, hears the wail-like noise hit his ears and recognizes far too late that the exact noise is his own. The way his throat constricts, same with his stomach, help him land on that conclusion. The way Steve’s fingers pinch at his ear solidify that realization too.</p><p>Bucky wants something back in his mouth.</p><p>“Oh, I bet they’d have quite a bit of fun. Two sweet boys kissin’ on each other while their Daddies watch? They’d look real pretty together, all soft skin and sweet lips.”</p><p>It shouldn’t be as appealing as it is, but Bucky feels achy all over at the thought of kissing another boy in front of his Daddy. Daddy wants it so it’s okay—he can think about it in a way that makes him hot all over. And <em>fuck, </em>does it make him hot all over. It makes his breaths come out in rushes, makes his hands come up but then move back to the floor once he realizes he doesn’t really have a place to set them. He wants to be quiet, but he wants to whine out Daddy’s name more, wants to wiggle and squirm. He isn’t able to hold every single movement back like he should, like Daddy said to.</p><p>“That’d be beautiful, wouldn’t it? My boy’s got lips made’a sin, delicate all over, pretty curls. He’d love to pretend to be shy but he’d be gagging to get his hands on sweet Bucky here.”</p><p>Bucky can barely stand it, hears all these noises that must be his own, rolls his cheek into Daddy’s leg. He’s right here and could be part of this conversation but he isn’t, isn’t part of this Daddy Talk.</p><p>Mr. Walker sighs, <em>purrs</em>, says, “He’s got a pretty little cock too, so sensitive,” and Steve is quick to the punch—</p><p>“Bucky here has lips made to suck cock.”</p><p>He doesn’t stop himself this time, lets out a weak, “<em>Daddy…”</em>, rolls his body as he does so because it feels right. Steve’s forgotten hand goes taut in his hair, pulls Bucky’s head up to look him in the eyes. Bucky soaks up his gaze like a flower to the sun even through the bite of pain.</p><p>“Open my pants—<em>get Daddy’s cock out.</em>”</p><p>The hand in his hair is the only thing that keeps his head upright and his hands look like they don’t belong to his lazy body when they fly up to Daddy’s waistband.</p><p>“You wanna be loud, a little rude, two birds with one stone—you can show Mr. Walker how good you are at suckin’ on Daddy’s cock and maybe you’ll be quieter.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tell me everything. Come talk to me on Tumblr or in the comments! ILY.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Shit,” he hears Mr. Walker curse, “Just like that and he starts slipping.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>9.5K!! Enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“You wanna be loud, a little rude, two birds with one stone—you can show Mr. Walker how good you are at suckin’ on Daddy’s cock and maybe you’ll be quieter.”</em>
</p>
<p>Shame prickles at the nape of Bucky’s neck and he’s sure his cheeks are beet red for a plethora of different reasons. His hands shake but they’re driven and determined as he pulls the zip of the older man’s pants down. Daddy is hard underneath his hands, his fingers, and when Bucky whimpers in sheer response to feeling it, Steve huffs.</p>
<p>“What? You thought I wouldn’t be hard as a rock listenin’ to my boy whimper as I talk about him being sweet on another boy?”</p>
<p>He’s right and he can’t blame Daddy. Bucky can almost feel his own dick leaking but he can’t think about or focus on himself when he’s grabbing for Daddy’s cock. He moans when he reaches through the opening in Steve’s briefs and feels the hot steel of his erection, moans again when he sets eyes on it. Daddy has the most beautiful cock Bucky has and will ever set eyes on. Does he tell Daddy that? Does Bucky tell him how much he loves Daddy’s cock enough?</p>
<p>He vows to do better.</p>
<p>Daddy’s cock is deliciously girthy, Bucky’s fingers barely coming together as he wraps one hand around the thickest part of him. One hefty vein runs right up the middle of him, on the underside, and Bucky wants to trace that familiar line with his tongue. Daddy has a fat cockhead too, a pretty pink one, one that makes Bucky’s toes curl when he feels it initially press him open and wide no matter what hole is being used.</p>
<p>Bucky is so caught up in this moment, Daddy’s hand still in his hair, that he almost slips up, almost leans forward and takes Daddy’s cock into his mouth, slurps him right up like he’s dying to. Holding him right out of reach makes him whine some, makes him want to swallow Daddy whole. He doesn’t expect there to be a jolt of fire, a little boil to his blood, at the thought of someone else seeing Daddy’s cock, <em>his </em>cock. It’s Daddy’s cock, but it’s <em>Bucky’s cock</em>.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want Mr. Walker to see it.</p>
<p>The hand in his hair doesn’t let him lean forward right away and Bucky’s <em>hungry, </em>mouth watering and wanting to be filled, but Daddy makes Bucky look up at him first with a soft noise and a tug.</p>
<p>“Use your manners. Make me proud, baby.”</p>
<p>Bucky feels tears well up in his eyes, riding the high of an emotional roller coaster. He only ever wants to make Daddy proud. The collar around his neck feels encouragingly tight as he swallows audibly.</p>
<p>“Please, Daddy? Can I put your cock in my mouth?”</p>
<p>Steve stalls, waits a few seconds, seemingly savors this exact moment. Mr. Walker adjusts in his seat and it startles Bucky, but it doesn’t faze him. He knows Daddy gives in the moment his tongue slips across his bottom lip.</p>
<p>“Go on, sugar but be nice and keep quiet; you’ve got some making up to do.”</p>
<p>Bucky doesn’t think anyone could blame him for the frankly obscene noise he lets out as soon as his lips are wrapped tight around Daddy’s cock. It sounds like Bucky is relieved, like he’s drinking water after walking through the desert for an entire day, but it also sounds like he’s blowing his load right there from <em>finally </em>having Daddy in his mouth. No matter what, he hopes he sounds grateful.</p>
<p>The build-up has been too much, the tease of being drawn out, and Bucky’s mouth is full of spit with even just half of Daddy’s cock on his tongue. He keeps his grip tight around the base of Steve, holds him upright for him to lap at, to give Daddy a few hot sweet kisses at the tip. He makes the most pitiful noises as he does so, purposefully, wants Daddy to know he’s sorry for not being the best he could be, before swallowing Steve down to the root.</p>
<p>Daddy infuriatingly keeps his composure except for the shaky exhale he gifts Bucky with, before he’s turning his attention back to Mr. Walker.</p>
<p>“Aside from being a Pillow Princess and getting fucked on his back, Bucky’s favorite position is between Daddy’s legs just like this,” Daddy slips his fingers through Bucky’s hair on an upstroke of his lips and Bucky’s eyelids flutter at the direct accuracy of the older man’s statement.</p>
<p>“Tell me the purpose of this. Why reward him with your cock when he was disobeying you?”</p>
<p>Bucky hums angrily around Daddy’s cock, huffs even on an upstroke of his mouth. He doesn’t like this topic, doesn’t like that Mr. Walker has the courage to contradict his Daddy so openly especially considering it has to do with Bucky finally able to get his mouth on Daddy’s cock. Steve hums and considers the question though, even brings his hand down to swipe his thumb along the corner of Bucky’s lips, the seam where the two of them meet. </p>
<p>“I like seeing Bucky squirm, seeing him wiggle. I recognize that this is still Bucky on good behavior, that I’m teasing him and therefore making him be a little brat; I accept that responsibility. I know there’s nothing that motivates Bucky more than getting my cock so even if he is stepping out of his lane in the smallest of ways this, and maybe my words, will bring him back to being a good boy.” </p>
<p>Steve plays him like a fucking instrument. Out of everything that has been said <em>about</em> Bucky so far this comment and observation is by far the most gutting. Bucky feels like <em>an object </em>right now, just something Daddy can use to get off with, something Daddy knows how to work and bend to do whatever he’d like. Steve can get anything from Bucky. </p>
<p>Bucky’s cheeks burn, eyelids fluttering, at the feeling of hot acceptance burning hot in his tummy. </p>
<p>He’s Daddy’s Plaything</p>
<p>“That any different than how you treat your boy?” Steve asks and he doesn’t even sound put-out in the slightest, doesn’t sound like he has Bucky slobbering on his cock whatsoever.</p>
<p>“Vastly different. There are much stricter lines in our relationship and rules are there for a reason. If he breaks rules or does not meet up to standards, he needs to be informed of that and punished.” Bucky immediately feels bad for Mr. Walker’s boy. If he had a Daddy that was as strict as Mr. Walker, he wouldn’t like it one bit. Mr. Walker does need help being a better Daddy and Bucky’s own Daddy is the best teacher and example anyone could learn from.</p>
<p>Bucky loves his Daddy.</p>
<p>Bucky’s lips are tight around Daddy’s cock and he lets his fist meet his mouth a few good times, eager to show his appreciation more and more as the evening progresses. He wants to let out a moan at the heavy feeling of Daddy on his tongue, front to back, filling up his mouth and hitting the back of his throat, making his jaw ache somewhat. His exhale might count as a moan though as he pulls off to fuck Daddy’s cock in his fist, as he runs his lips messily up the side of the hot steel of Steve’s erection.</p>
<p>“Right but your Sub is your Boy now and you’re his Daddy. This is a much more outwardly caring and loving relationship, Walker. You gotta make yourself softer,” Steve explains, words direct but tone kind.</p>
<p>“So I’m learning,” is what Mr. Walker responds with and there’s a lull in conversation before he’s commenting, “He’s quite an eager little things isn’t he?”</p>
<p>Bucky humps the edge of the couch.</p>
<p>It’s an entirely unintentional movement but, even though he had been hearing Mr. Walker speak, he hadn’t even thought about the man <em>watching </em>Bucky, hadn’t thought about him sitting somewhat behind looking on as Bucky sucked on Daddy’s cock. He knows Steve told him to be quiet, <em>he knows it, </em>but this isn’t something he can hold back, this little roll of his hips and the moan he lets out as he slips his lips back around the tip of Steve’s dick.</p>
<p>Daddy doesn’t seem to mind all too much. He does purr though, brings a hand down to slip it through Bucky’s hair as he speaks, no pressure or pushiness behind the gesture.</p>
<p><em>“God </em>he is, always so eager to please. You hear that, Buck?” Steve asks as if Bucky hasn’t been tuning in the entire time, “Mr. Walker says you’re eager, baby. You a hungry little thing?” Bucky’s trying to respond even with his mouth full, blush most definitely spreading to his neck, burning hot under already heated skin. He runs a hand up Daddy’s thigh, murmurs, “Yes, Daddy <em>so hungry</em>,” and this time Daddy does let out a small groan.</p>
<p>“I know I’m bringing it up again, but I truly think him and my boy would get along very well. We should really consider it, Rogers. My boy could get all dressed up for the occasion and he loves <em>dressing up</em>.” Mr. Walker’s voice has taken a different edge to it, one that indicates to Bucky his mindset has gone a bit fuzzy, enjoying this more for pleasure than for learning. Steve’s hand goes tight in Bucky’s hair, not painful but <em>there</em>, says to their guest, “<em>Ohh, </em>Bucky here loves dressing up for Daddy. Don’t you, sugar?”</p>
<p>All Bucky can do is let out a noise that sounds like muffled agreement, taking Daddy to the back of his throat and looking up, uses Steve’s weakness against him. Steve takes a heavy breath in, guides, “Tell Mr. Walker how you like to dress up, baby.” That requires both pulling Daddy’s cock out of his mouth <em>and </em>telling the other man in the room, practically a stranger, that he likes to wear sweet and frilly things. But he’s nothing but a good boy, wants to obey Daddy, so he pulls off with a messy whimper, goes to speak his words on Steve’s cock before the older man is clicking his tongue.</p>
<p>“Look at him when you speak to him, Bucky.”</p>
<p>Bucky’s whole body <em>throbs, </em>his own dick feeling extremely heavy between his legs. He makes another sad noise, turns his head and presses his cheek into Daddy’s clothed thigh and wants to gasp when he sets eyes on Mr. Walker sitting in his chair. Bucky hasn’t looked at him, has tuned out any visual of the other man since he got down between Daddy’s legs and that was two glasses of bourbon ago.</p>
<p>Mr. Walker looks like he might eat Bucky alive and not necessarily in the yummy way that Steve always gifts him with. There’s a little bit of hunger there but Bucky isn’t used to such hard and indifferent edges. Mr. Walker’s gaze is <em>piercing,</em> and Bucky would be lying if he said talking to another Daddy, so different than his own, didn’t make his tummy stir.</p>
<p>“I…I like to wear sweet things, Mr. Walker,” Bucky says in a voice quiet and timid. Even with his head turned to the side and down he can see the way their guest’s eyes flash, the way his lips tug up at the corners as he runs his hand over his chin.</p>
<p>“What does that mean, pet? ‘<em>Sweet things’</em>?” Bucky wants to think the nickname Mr. Walker gives him is a little sour but the back of his neck tingles as soon as it’s out in that deep baritone voice, a small betrayal. Bucky feels Steve’s fingers run along his collar nonchalantly, soft and soothing gesture, hand on his neck a desire he hadn’t realized he wanted.</p>
<p><em>“Oh, </em>I…I like to wear things that are…that are soft,” Steve’s fingers slide over his collar a little more purposefully, <em>skin </em>and then<em> velvet </em>and then<em> skin, </em>are encouraging, “T-things that girls…girls wear.” Bucky would be lying if he said Mr. Walker’s mouth didn’t part upon hearing these words and it feels like such a victory that it runs through Bucky’s veins like renewed energy. Mr. Walker’s eyes flick up to Daddy’s and Bucky can’t see Daddy, but he knows he has to be looking back at Mr. Walker with either a somewhat smug look or down at Bucky with a fond one.</p>
<p>“Be specific, Bucky. I know what we do is ours, but I want you to share with Mr. Walker what you enjoy that is soft and girly.” Bucky feels a little spit leak out of the corner of his lips.</p>
<p><em>“Panties</em>. I…I like wearing panties,” he slurs out as clearly as he can. Bucky wants Daddy’s cock back in his mouth.</p>
<p><em>“Shit,</em>” he hears Mr. Walker curse, “Just like that and he starts slipping.” It isn’t formed as a question. It isn’t Mr. Walker asking Daddy if Bucky can hypothetically start to slip away at words alone or talking about his <em>panties</em>; it’s a statement. It’s a statement because Bucky is transparent. Mr. Walker can visibly see somehow that Bucky gets a little sweet at breaching this subject. He isn’t sure if it’s his foggy eyes are his slack mouth or his voice but whatever it is has Mr. Walker noticing Bucky going sweet in five seconds flat.</p>
<p>Bucky’s dropped much harder and faster before but he’s feeling it nonetheless.</p>
<p>Daddy doesn’t even answer Mr. Walker, just says to Bucky, “Tell Mr. Walker why you like wearing ladies’ panties, Buck,” and there’s a burn to his words, one that Bucky feels under his skin. It’s a burn that makes him blush as he clenches his achy and devastatingly empty hole down onto nothing, makes him roll his cheek into Daddy’s leg again and whimper. His noises and reactions imply he’s uncomfortable, but he makes an effort to answer anyway to prove that they are not so.</p>
<p>“Jus’like the way it makes me feel p-pretty and little, the way it makes me…me feel sof’tand happy. Daddy is sweet to m-me when I wear ‘em sometimes, les’me rub my pussy on my Special Pillow.”</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>Buck</em>…”</p>
<p>Talking about how everything makes him <em>feel </em>is a little overwhelming in this moment, makes him feel like he’s simultaneously vibrating with emotions and losing all sensation. He can feel Daddy’s fingers rub at his collar, at the sensitive skin of his neck, and he has to put effort, genuine effort, into listening to the words that are spoken by both men.</p>
<p>“…could never leave me this fast. I haven’t even seen it in full.”</p>
<p>“The first time Bucky went sweet on me was actually the day we made things official. That alone should be an indication to how important trust is when it comes to this,” Daddy’s hand runs through Bucky’s hair as he speaks, and Bucky makes a small noise as he suckles on the two of his own fingers in his mouth. When did his fingers get in his mouth?</p>
<p>“Bucky finds it easy to float and go sweet because of my near-constant support throughout this experience so far. This isn’t a hard float, he’s feelin’ a little sugary, but he’s had my words and communication, my touches, my looks. I’m not leaving him high and dry and expecting him to meet every one of my expectations without guidance and love. That’s not what being a Daddy is about.”</p>
<p>Bucky makes a soft noise that sounds like a sigh, a whimper, his own dick giving another bounce at Daddy’s intensely intimate knowledge of him being said in such a lecture of a way.</p>
<p>“You can’t expect your boy to reach subspace for you when you’re doing nothing to support him through the process.”</p>
<p>Mr. Walker makes some sort of noise, almost like a grumble, and Bucky feels compelled in this honey-sticky moment to back his Daddy up, so he finds himself saying—</p>
<p>“He’s gotta know Daddy loves’im, Mr. Walker or he’ll never go sweet for you. I know I wouldn’t,” and Steve doesn’t even give him a pinch on the ear for being a little sassy; that’s how Bucky knows he’s right. When Bucky rolls his cheek into Daddy’s leg, making a whimpery noise, he catches sight of Daddy’s erection resting against his dress shirt and it makes him whine again, makes his mouth water. He completely forgets what they were just talking about, what the focus of the conversation was, as his hand skirts up Daddy’s thigh, squeezing it when he gets to the crease of Steve’s hip. He hopes the weak gesture enough lets the older man know that he wants more, wants his mouth full again.</p>
<p>“Somethin’ else that makes Bucky go sweet, much sweeter than this, is a few fingers and a good stretch. Isn’t that right, sugar?”</p>
<p>His fingers on Daddy’s hip twitch. He wants to touch, wants to suck. He knows back in the kitchen (what feels like years ago) they discussed Bucky’s limits and how he was okay with being fingered in front of Mr. Walker, but being here in this moment and hearing those words so blatantly said in front of their guest has Bucky’s tummy turning in unfamiliar eagerness. But Daddy asked him a question, is expecting an answer, and he wants to be a good boy. He swallows down his noises, his desire to plead, and says, “Y-yes, Daddy.”</p>
<p>“’Yes, Daddy’ what?” Steve’s just showing off at this point, maybe has been long before this and might push it further throughout the night. But Bucky is here to serve his Daddy.</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy I love a few fingers and a good…good stretch.”</p>
<p>“Where?”</p>
<p><em>“Ohh, </em>in…in my pussy, Daddy.”</p>
<p>Bucky might as well turn around right now and spread himself wide, get a neon sign and point the arrow right at his ass. He doesn’t need a sign though, knows he’s done a good job and has been a good boy up to this point, knows he’ll continue to do so. Daddy will reward him.</p>
<p>“You see how comfortable he is now? Remember how hard he was shakin’ pouring our drinks, Walker? Now look at him, all sweet and leakin’ and openly saying he loves when Daddy fingers his little pussy without even thinking twice. This is when I know I’ve got him good, when he doesn’t even think about answering or what he is saying. You’re gonna see somethin’ real special tonight.”</p>
<p>There’s a hand under Bucky’s chin then, a strong grip, necessarily so considering how loopy Bucky is at the moment, and it’s Steve’s. It’s so obviously Steve’s, not only because he’s the only person allowed to touch Bucky tonight, but because Bucky <em>knows </em>that grip, knows that hand. He scrambles somewhat, huffing a bit, whining, but only at how quickly he tries to climb up to follow the pull of the hand, not because of anything on Daddy’s part.</p>
<p>Bucky smiles when he’s eye-level with Steve’s own eyes, <em>smiles, </em>can’t even fucking stop the breath of a giggle that comes with it. Even biting his lip doesn’t cease it, hands curling into Daddy’s dress shirt, fingers scratching at a button.</p>
<p>“Hi, sugar,” Steve purrs, voice as rich as the dark chocolate Steve saves for times when he really puts Bucky through the ringer, times where Bucky doesn’t even know if he’ll come back from his floating cloud-like place. Bucky wants to eat Steve up as much as he does that chocolate.</p>
<p>“Hi, Daddy,” Bucky breathes back, eyes dancing between those sparkling ocean eyes and those pretty red lips. Daddy has the prettiest lips Bucky’s ever seen. He wants to suck on them.</p>
<p>“You’re doin’ good, baby, <em>so good. </em>I’m so proud of you, Buck.” Steve’s voice is low and smooth and Bucky knows he has to look like a fool as his eyelids droop as if on cue. Daddy has proven tonight, again and again and will continue to as the night goes on, that he knows Bucky inside and out, so he is sure that the tone and pitch is on purpose. He doesn’t care; he finds it arousing.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Daddy.” He doesn’t even think as he says it; Daddy was right.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome, Buck. I’m ready to open you up, give you a little reward. If you’re a good boy and listen to Daddy I’ll give you exactly what you want, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yes, <em>uh-huh</em> please, Daddy please,” Bucky begs, lips almost touching at this point, having pressed so close to Daddy without even realizing it.</p>
<p>“I promise I’ll be good, I promise I—”</p>
<p><em>“Babylove</em>, hush,” Daddy coos, <em>finally </em>pressing his lips to Bucky’s gently and chastely, “Good boys don’t beg,” he reminds Bucky and that shuts him right up. He wants to be a good boy, always.</p>
<p>Steve’s holding Bucky’s chin and looking into Bucky’s eyes as he speaks to their forgotten guest.</p>
<p>“Walker, mind moving your glass?” Bucky hadn’t even realized Mr. Walker had set it down on the coffee table in front of them but why would—</p>
<p>“Want your back on that table, sugar. Want the back’a your knees hooked behind your elbows, want you <em>spread wide,” </em>and Daddy growls the last few words through the kisses he gives Bucky, ends it with a nip at his bottom lip that sends a spark of lightning down to his dick, makes him gasp. The thought of the image he is about to make is overwhelming in his mind, makes him feel so small and sweet, to be spread out on a piece of their living room furniture in front of two big men, two Daddies.</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy,” he finds himself breathing, is almost <em>eager</em> to show himself off in such a way, to let Mr. Walker see him naked and spread from afar and under the safety of Daddy’s touch, to have Mr. Walker watch as Bucky’s Daddy fingers him open. He feels a little like a star of a slutty show, but he likes it, isn’t feeling quite as shy anymore. He isn’t sure if it’s the beginning nerves wearing off or if it’s his sweet space he’s falling deeper into, but he’s okay and Daddy says he’s being a good boy.</p>
<p>So, he pushes himself off of Daddy’s chest, shuffles backwards until he feels the coffee table behind him and climbs on top.</p>
<p>The table is cool underneath his flushed skin. He feels like he maneuvers himself on top of it with grace, smooth and sultry, but he’s sure he looks like some version of a newborn foal, all wobbly knees and newness. When he leans back onto his elbows, wincing as his impatience leads him to more of slamming them down instead of resting them behind him, he finally sets eyes on his own dick. <em>Oh. </em></p>
<p>He’s angry. <em>It’s </em>angry. He bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from reaching down with his own hand and wrapping it around himself. He knows that if anything encircled his erection, he’d shoot off in less than three seconds and that’s not what a good boy would do. His dick drools lewdly onto his tummy in the few seconds its able to rest there and he whimpers at the sad sight of it before he hears Steve moving off the couch and onto the floor. He is comforted by the simple yet profound thought that Daddy will take care of him.</p>
<p>Through his anticipation he tries his hardest to remember the directions Daddy <em>just </em>gave him, whimpers as he wracks his brain. Elbows. Knees. <em>Oh. </em>The position he folds himself into is arguably one of the most vulnerable of ones that Daddy could have asked of him. He’s spread <em>wide, </em>accessible in every way for Daddy, shows off his needy hole to the only person who could give it exactly what it needs and <em>fuck, </em>that makes his next exhale inadvertently turn into a whine. Mr. Walker is close, even closer now that they’ve minutely moved positions, and their guest’s analytical gaze can almost has a physical presence in the room.  </p>
<p>Step by step. Bucky doesn’t know what Daddy has planned but he is comforted by the feeling of baby steps and leading up to something so frighteningly vulnerable at a snail’s pace. He’ll do whatever Daddy wants him to, but this solace adds to the cloud-like cushion in his mind.</p>
<p><em>“Daddy…?”</em> he hears himself say but it sounds like an ask, sounds like a question, a hushed plea. There are familiar and skillful hands on his ankles then, running down his legs, and it makes Bucky’s neck feel a bit wobbly. He hears Daddy hum in response, a deep basement of a noise that feels like it runs from Steve’s lips right onto Bucky’s ankle where they’re pressed. It makes Bucky breathe out a gentle, <em>“Daddy…” </em>much more confident this time around, like a prayer.</p>
<p>“Yeah, baby <em>mhmm. </em>You comfy? You okay?” Another kiss to his ankle.</p>
<p>He flexes his arms, embraces the heavy weight of his legs in the crook of his elbows. He allows his head to fall back onto the table and join the rest of his body, wiggles his fingers, feels himself all over for a small little check-in. He feels good, a little short of breath in that way he can feel in his core, molten with the fuzziness of arousal. He wants all over, is achy and hot, but wants nonetheless and hurts for Daddy’s touch. He is not anxious. He is not uncomfortable. He is in love.</p>
<p>“M’perfect, Daddy,” is what he subconsciously decides to mumble, grins as he does so, and Steve moves, bends to purr and nip at the inside of Bucky’s knee. His hands squeeze Bucky all over, knead and grab in deep little tugs at his spread thighs, his sides. Bucky giggles, all sugar-spun and sweet, arches his neck and <em>oh </em>his collar, his collar gives him an added and extra squeeze in the absolute best way possible.</p>
<p><em>“God, </em>look at ‘im, Walker look at this sweet boy. Ain’t he sweet for his Daddy?” Daddy asks almost rhetorically, voice muffled by the sensitive skin of Bucky’s knee. He can feel Daddy’s beard on his skin, the yummy friction and scratchiness and it makes Bucky want to dig his fingers into that facial hair. Mr. Walker’s voice is different than Bucky’s Daddy’s but is startlingly soothing when he gives Steve a soft answer of, “He’s darling.”</p>
<p>Bucky isn’t sure if the noise that Daddy lets out is a pleased one or a territorial one, but either way, it’s deep and Bucky’s giggles turn into a hearty uncharacteristic groan, one laced with amusement. Daddy’s noise is one disguised as a warning, not a specific one either, one to anyone and everyone. Bucky has a Daddy and people are only allowed to say he’s pretty when his Daddy asks them if he is. They aren’t allowed to touch Bucky, aren’t allowed to have Bucky, because Steve is his Daddy.</p>
<p>Bucky’s groan reflects how he feels about such ownership—he feels in his bones it is right.</p>
<p>He can detect Daddy’s noise more than he can hear it, the vibrations of the continued rumble sliding along the inside of his thigh, down to his tummy, and Bucky’s arches his neck into his choke of a noise when Daddy’s lips purse along the line of his furious dick. His lips slide messily along Bucky’s erection in open-mouthed kisses even as he speaks.</p>
<p>“You ever suck your boy’s little prick, Walker?”</p>
<p>Bucky’s eyes roll back into his head at <em>words, </em>simple words, a blunt question. For Daddy to ask such a question in the exact moment he’s one step away from properly swallowing Bucky down has the younger in aroused disbelief. There’s a pause, a moment where Bucky isn’t sure Mr. Walker is going to answer but one where all three men can hear Daddy’s deafening sloppy noises. Bucky doesn’t have the power to raise his head, to look down the line of his body to watch his Daddy gives his dick sweet wet kisses but he can feel lips purse, can feel the slick pressure of little flicks of his tongue.</p>
<p>He’s leaking like a faucet, he’s sure of it, but Daddy will take care of him.</p>
<p>“I…I do not really,” Mr. Walker answers and Bucky didn’t think it was possible for one August Walker to sound even remotely uncomfortable or hesitant, but he does, sounds almost timid. Bucky is in the middle of turning his head to the side to visually take in their guest, to see if he looks as hesitant as he sounds, when Daddy’s lips slip up his cock with ease and wrap right around the swollen head of it.</p>
<p>The garbled squeal that Bucky lets out sounds somewhat like <em>“Daddy!”</em> but no one, not even Bucky himself, could confirm that nor deny that. He’s worried he’s going to lose what he thought was a strong grip on his legs, his hands shuffling down into Daddy’s hair in both surprise and delight. He doesn’t even wait or draw it out, just slides his hot Daddy mouth right down Bucky’s shaft and <em>hums. </em></p>
<p>Bucky’s eyes cross, or they would if they hadn’t rolled back into his head the instant he felt Daddy’s tongue run around the tip of his erection. Daddy is making pleased Happy Daddy noises, is swallowing around Bucky again and <em>again, </em>and it feels so fucking good that Bucky can’t stop from pulling on Steve’s hair, from yanking on it frantically in warning and enthusiasm. It’s a movement that shouts <em>“Daddy! I’m going to come, Daddy!” </em>without Bucky needing to say the words. His mouth is full of mushy nonsense words and noises anyway.</p>
<p>With a confident slurp Daddy pulls back, hands running hotly up Bucky’s sides squeezing at his hips. He blows a quick breath of air up the line of Bucky’s dick and Bucky whimpers as his fingers untangle from Steve’s soft hair. Steve has always had soft hair, so soft, like spun silk that Bucky likes to rub his cheek into when he kisses the top of Daddy’s head when he’s working. Bucky pats at Steve’s head now, <em>I’m sorry, Daddy, </em>chest heaving as he wills away the urge to blow his fucking load right here and now.</p>
<p>“Why not?” Steve asks Mr. Walker, calm and collected as ever, question direct and tone persistent. What else is persistent is the theme of Bucky’s somehow meshed involvement and invisibility. This entire conversation between Daddy and Mr. Walker could be had without Bucky in the room, without him at all. Yet here Steve is with his skilled fingers plucking at Bucky’s sensitive nipples and his lips gliding hungrily up and down Bucky’s dick while conversing and asking simple questions.</p>
<p>Bucky’s worried he is going to vibrate right off the table and onto the floor.</p>
<p>Mr. Walker doesn’t answer. Bucky isn’t sure why Mr. Walker doesn’t answer but he’d guess that’s because Mr. Walker doesn’t know <em>how </em>to answer. He might also be realizing in this moment that he has no excuse worth sharing or vocalizing that wouldn’t make him sound like a bad Daddy and, quite frankly, an asshole. Maybe he didn’t hear Daddy. Maybe he’s distracted by watching Steve’s mouth play with Bucky’s cock. Daddy takes Mr. Walker’s silence as a pretty damning answer.</p>
<p>“You’re tellin’ me you’ve never had your boy all spread out under your hands and your mouth, just wigglin’ with how good you’re makin’ his little cock feel?” Daddy asks and Bucky’s head inadvertently lolls to the side. He thinks he might be smiling. He wishes he could put his fingers in his mouth.</p>
<p>“If I’m being totally honest, I don’t do that often, don’t do it enough,” is what Mr. Walker mumbles back in response with and Daddy makes a sad noise, <em>a coo, </em>skates his lips down Bucky’s throbbing prick to lap at his balls in a movement that makes Bucky arch his back and moan gluttonously. He isn’t sure if the movement is to get away from such appetizing torture or in sheer reaction, but either way the stretch makes Bucky’s groan go on for a few extra seconds.</p>
<p>“I would ask Buck here what he thinks about Daddy’s mouth on his pretty dick but I’m not so sure he’d be able to answer you at the moment,” Bucky’s tongue, thick and heavy in his mouth, agrees, “Also, m’feelin’ a little selfish. I wanna be the one to tell you how it feels as a Daddy to please my boy with my mouth.”</p>
<p>Daddy doesn’t elaborate right away, spends a few seconds suckling on the tender head of Bucky’s dick, lets out his own low pitiful noises at the sight and sensation of Bucky so wound up underneath him. Bucky whines in response, along the same noises as Steve is letting out, is finally able to lift his head up to look down at his Daddy and—</p>
<p><em>“Ohh, </em>Daddy…!”</p>
<p>Steve looks up at Bucky as he talks to Mr. Walker.</p>
<p>“There’s nothin’ better than my sweet boy’s mouth on my Daddy cock, which I’m sure you can relate to, Walker. But gettin’ my own mouth on my sweet angel is something different entirely. Being able to feel how hard I make him, how aroused he is for his Daddy, and to be able to feel it all on my tongue and between my lips, is somethin’ special.”</p>
<p>Bucky watches through watered vision as Daddy takes Bucky’s prick and smacks it right up against his tongue, flat and open and right for Bucky to see, with wet sloppy noises. It makes Bucky want to growl and shout to see his Daddy take care of him in such a way, to proudly explain why he likes going down on Bucky. To Bucky, Steve’s words mean that, while this is his pleasure, this is Daddy’s cock. Daddy makes this dick hard, Daddy makes him feel good, Daddy makes him come.</p>
<p>Bucky’s dick is owned by Daddy.</p>
<p><em>“Fuck, </em>I love you,” Bucky hears himself slur, voice turned a bit gravely, and Steve fucking <em>chuckles </em>into the slip and slide of his mouth over the length of Bucky. He leaves his head up long enough to watch Daddy give his cock one more sweet fat kiss before murmuring back, “I love you too, sugar.”</p>
<p>“Trust is important, can’t stress that enough and I know you’re probably sick of it, but what better way to build trust than to show your boy how much you appreciate and love him? What better way to build that bond and show him that your relationship is a two-way street? Don’t keep thinking that Subs don’t deserve to have their dicks sucked because if anything, they deserve it more than we do.”</p>
<p>Bucky is overwhelmed but in such a sweet way that he feels his next few breaths come out as little sobs, somewhat choked. Do other Daddies not do this? Is this yet another reason why Bucky has the best Daddy in the whole entire world?  </p>
<p>Daddy’s hands rub at his sides, slide up and down his thighs soothingly. Bucky has never and will never love anyone like he loves Steve. It’s clear as day in his head, a simple yet profound thought. He promises himself he’ll spend the rest of the time he has with Steve proving this to him, just how much he cherishes and loves his Daddy.</p>
<p>“Besides,” Steve rumbles, “Look how blissed out he is by Daddy’s mouth? Look how I make him feel? Makes me so fucking hard seeing and knowing I can do this to my Buck. Who wouldn’t love makin’ their Sub feel like this?”</p>
<p>He’s twirling around in this sweet little pillow of adoration when Steve brings him right back to their shared arousal with—</p>
<p>“Tell me you at least get your mouth on your boy’s pussy, Walker…”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh…” </em>
</p>
<p>Is Daddy going to do that? Bucky wants that, wants it right now, would shed a plethora of more tears for that. Steve hums, kisses his way down Bucky’s dick, his balls, laps at those too.</p>
<p>“That is something I’ve started to do more. It’s…it’s his favorite and we use it as a reward,” Mr. Walker explains, voice tight and direct. Their guest might finally be showing signs of arousal, of being turned on. Bucky understands why Mr. Walker’s boy might have needed him to be softer; him not showing any signs of said arousal up to this point shows Bucky just how hard of a Dom he has to be. Bucky’s thoughts are fleeting as soon as Daddy presses the messiest open-mouth kisses right over his hole, all over his pussy, and <em>fuck </em>it’s so good, every fucking time.</p>
<p><em>“Daddy…!” </em>Bucky tries, a pitiful high-pitched noise, but he is ignored.</p>
<p>“No reward—should be an all the time thing. Bucky loves when I eat his little pussy out, don’t you, baby?” Daddy’s advice is direct just the same as his question is and it makes Bucky arch his neck, makes him purr as Steve laps at his little hole.</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy <em>love it, </em>Daddy. Thank you, Daddy,” Bucky whines as he adjusts his legs, his arms finally beginning to go a bit weak at holding himself up and open. Steve makes another noise, another happy noise, flicks his tongue along Bucky’s rim as he does so in a way that has Bucky’s toes curling.</p>
<p>“Bucky’s pussy is so pretty and soft and pink. He just recently made the decision to start gettin’ waxed and Daddy just loves eatin’ at this silky pussy doesn’t he, sugar?” Bucky grins into his little arch, bites his lip.</p>
<p><em>“Ngh </em>yes, Daddy mhmm, <em>oh yes.” </em>Steve loved it even before Bucky felt comfortable letting Steve touch him in such a way, feel good in such a way. <em>Whatever you want, sugar, </em>Steve had always told him, never pushy, but that didn’t stop Bucky from cursing himself at the amount of time he wasted not having his ass eaten.</p>
<p><em>“Mmm, </em>my mouth is a bit busy Buck. Why don’t you tell Mr. Walker why his boy would like him eating his sweet pussy out.”</p>
<p>If Steve wasn’t already there grabbing ahold of Bucky’s thighs, hands running up his legs to the back of his knees, they would have surely fallen to the floor for lack of grip. He’s…Daddy wants him to what now? To tell Mr. Walker why his boy would…It’s obvious that Bucky only gets one chance for guidance and that’s already been used up, Daddy’s mouth hot and slick on his pussy. Directions were most definitely clear and concise so if Bucky were to mess this up it would entirely be his own fault.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why don’t you tell Mr. Walker why his boy would like him eating this sweet pussy out. </em>
</p>
<p>Bucky starts without any resemblance of an idea as to what he’s going to say, gives a weak, “Mr. Walker?” It’s only courteous to make sure someone is listening before you start talking. Daddy’s mouth feels like heaven between his cheeks, makes it hard for Bucky to keep Daddy’s order at the forefront of his mind let alone keep his eyes open, <em>so heavy. </em></p>
<p>“Yes, pet?” Mr. Walker responds and Bucky finds him turning his head towards the sound of their guest. He’s never locked eyes with someone while Daddy licks at his pussy. No one but Daddy has ever seen Bucky like this, laid out and blissed out, vulnerable and experiencing pleasure in such a way. It may have been frightening to Bucky before this moment, before an hour ago, but in this specific moment Bucky feels that it adds to his pleasure, his arousal. It feels as if Daddy is showing off somewhat, showing Walker what he can’t touch while also showing him what he should be doing.</p>
<p>When Daddy presses at Bucky’s thighs, pushes them back, his lips seal over Bucky’s rim, slurping and sucking in the upmost of filthiest ways. Bucky moans, hiccups, doesn’t take his eyes off of Mr. Walker’s face, let’s their guest see what his Daddy does to him. Mr. Walker licks his lips.</p>
<p>“Your boy would love this, Mr. Walker. He’d…he’d feel <em>so good</em>. Your tongue feels…would f-feel so good on his pussy.”</p>
<p>Daddy moans between Bucky’s legs, gives him a few laps with the flat of his tongue, wet messy ones that he knows baby loves.</p>
<p>“It would…it would make him feel sweet, we love feelin’ sweet, <em>oh,” </em>Bucky tries his best to explain, his hands able to move down to slip through Daddy’s hair. He likes putting his hands on Daddy’s head while it’s between his legs. He isn’t pushy about it, but it adds to the overall eroticism of the moment, being able to feel Daddy’s head as he feels his mouth work.</p>
<p>“He would…Mr. Walker, he would l-love Daddy showing him he loved him like that. Daddy’s lips and…and tongue, <em>oh,</em> on our pussy feels so <em>fucking </em>good,” Bucky groans out, hands cupping Daddy’s head as he lets his eyes fall shut. Steve momentarily turns his head and nips at the inside of Bucky’s thigh, mumbles an amused, “<em>Language</em>,” before kissing back down to Bucky’s sensitive hole.</p>
<p>Bucky knows the next organic and natural step in this foreplay is approaching rapidly when Daddy points his tongue and starts to press <em>in, </em>starts to fuck Bucky with it. Bucky’s eyes do slip closed then, do so with a shaky moan, one that is broken by the anticipation of Daddy’s fingers. Steve can feel the energy shift, Bucky’s sure of it, can feel their attention turn to the next level.</p>
<p>“Keep goin’, sugar. Tell Mr. Walker how you feel,” Daddy guides, hands sliding along Bucky’s torso, slipping up to pluck at his nipples in a movement that makes Bucky hiss through his teeth and open his eyes. He speaks without thinking, feels Daddy’s big hands slide back down his body. He doesn’t hear that familiar cap pop open as he starts.</p>
<p>“Mr. Walker, I feel…I feel a lot of things. But I feel good, Daddy makes me f-feel good,” he starts, and Mr. Walker looks <em>hungry</em>, but it isn’t direct hunger that Bucky sees or feels; it’s his hunger of thought, of residual and displaced hunger. It’s hunger that isn’t for Bucky. “I feel like I’m..l-like I’m owned, like my pleasure isn’t my own, but that I can feel this way because…because D-Daddy lets me feel this way, this safe.”</p>
<p>It takes Bucky an embarrassing four seconds to realize the swirl he feels at his pussy is not Daddy’s tongue. It’s a finger. By the time he realizes it’s a finger it’s already slid inside of him to the hilt, but he must realize this because he’s making a noise that is akin to a wail. It’s a quiet noise, one that sounds like curious surprise, but it’s a startled and gutted noise nevertheless.</p>
<p>It registers as odd to Bucky that Mr. Walker is the voice he hears first.</p>
<p>“Shit, Rogers your boy might have mine beat on sensitivity.”</p>
<p>Daddy purrs in response, quietly tells Bucky to hold his legs open, guides Bucky’s hands to the back of his knees.</p>
<p>“So sensitive, just a sweet baby. So strong and smart but givin’ me so much, lettin’ me be his Daddy,” Steve coos into the inside of Bucky’s knee, moreso to Bucky in lieu of a response directly to Mr. Walker himself. The finger inside Bucky is almost infuriating. It feels like <em>so much</em> considering how wound up he is but it’s also upsetting considering he’s a hungry little boy and almost <em>wants </em>to be overwhelmed.</p>
<p>The noises he is making must be transparent enough to Daddy because Steve gives him a soothing noise, presses and smears that finger against as much of Bucky’s walls as he can manage, murmuring, “I know, sugar <em>I know. </em>Daddy’s gonna get you all ready, gonna give you just what you need. Daddy thinks you might want it to be a tight squeeze tonight, might want it to feel like a lot. Is that what you want, Bucky?”</p>
<p>Bucky appreciates Steve’s use of smaller words, of choppier thoughts. They’re easy for him to process when he feels like he’s sinking right through this table and through the floor beneath it. He knows Daddy likes it best when he puts thought to his answers, when he processes and takes time to give Daddy a true answer. He does so now, feels around inside his brain, thinks about what he wants. He feels comfily overwhelmed at the moment but feels safe enough to feel such a way. He wants it to continue.</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy. <em>Green. </em>Wanna feel you.”</p>
<p><em>“God, </em>you’re such a good boy, Buck.”</p>
<p>Bucky <em>preens. </em>The second finger sates the vixen inside of Bucky a bit more but he’s still greedy, still wants to work through it quickly so he can have the ultimate prize. He’ll be good though, a good boy who does what his Daddy wants him too, which is lay back and hold his legs open wide.</p>
<p>“There are some times where I do make the ultimate and unspoken decision on how much prep to give Bucky, but more often than not I want him to decide, want him to tell me what he wants.” As Daddy talks to Mr. Walker, something that takes Bucky so very long to realize, his fingers feel like silk inside of him. Daddy’s fingers are long and thick, him being big all over, and they have Bucky making the most pathetic of whimpers with each slide in.</p>
<p>“As Bucky’s Daddy I want him to guide me, he’s in control, I want to know how he feels before I make a decision.”</p>
<p>Mr. Walker is quick with his question, “You always ask for a verbal answer?”</p>
<p>“If he can give me one, I prefer to hear it. Tone is important, <em>how </em>he sounds.”</p>
<p>“Do you always give him what he requests?”</p>
<p>Three fingers now, a tight squeeze, all of Bucky’s breaths little pathetic noises that he can’t stop from tumbling from his lips, even after he tries to muffle them with one of his hands, thigh quivering with the effort to stay up and wide. Steve doesn’t attempt to stop him.</p>
<p>“No. That’s why I like to hear <em>how </em>he says things. Buck would never outright lie to his Daddy but sometimes he’s feeling some type of way, a little too much, and hearing how he says things tells me more than what Bucky actually says. Sometimes Bucky is eager to just repeat what Daddy says or to say yes to me when I really want him to think about an answer.”</p>
<p>Bucky is loud now, doesn’t mean to be, but he gurgles a bit behind his palm, resorts to sticking two fingers into his mouth to see if it will help him calm down. He wants to be good, must be good, <em>is good. </em>He knows Daddy appreciates his efforts no matter what, knows deep down Bucky always tries to be the best boy. He sees this now, sees how wild Steve’s eyes get at watching his boy actively try so hard to stay good.</p>
<p>The three fingers in his hole feel like everything and nothing he wants. He feels full, lights up from the inside when Daddy’s mean fingers barely rub up against his swollen sweet spot. Scissors and presses and pulls, glides and swipes and tickles. It has Bucky’s eyelids fluttering before they roll back into his head, has Steve moaning as he watches Bucky take it and feel so goddamn good.</p>
<p>He doesn’t even pull his fingers out of his mouth when he tries to cry, <em>“Daddy…!”</em>, a messy muffled noise. Steve hums, drags his fingers from Bucky’s pussy slowly. Bucky barely registers the swipe of slick fingers on the inside of his thigh, preoccupied with Daddy leaning down, <em>oh, </em>he’s leaning down to lay over top of Bucky, between his legs. Bucky could cry, <em>might still be crying, </em>hiccups pathetically when Daddy presses bodily into Bucky, chest to chest, face to face. He wants to close the distance between them, but he can’t make the muscles in his neck act fast enough, and Steve’s lips press into his own instead.</p>
<p>Of all the things they do, the list of things, Bucky likes kissing Steve the most. He feels like they share the strongest connection when they’re lips are pressed together. He likes that there can be kisses for every kind of mood, for every kind of moment. These moments are a bit fevered, unrushed but shaky, Bucky panting through most of them, lips parted, eyes wide.</p>
<p>“How you doin’, Buck?” Steve asks softly, pushing the hair stuck to Bucky’s sweaty forehead back before cupping his beck, fingers digging into the hinge of his jaw. Daddy feels good on top of him, right, <em>perfect. </em>Heavy but in a comforting way, surrounded and protected. It feels like he was meant to reside between Bucky’s legs, snug and thick.</p>
<p>“M’good, Daddy. Wanna…<em>Daddy </em>wanna—”</p>
<p><em>“Shh </em>I know, babylove I know. You’ve been so good, <em>so good, </em>baby. It’s time you get what you’ve been wantin’. You’re okay though, with all of this?” Steve’s voice is a breath of a breeze, so quiet and soothing, meant for only Bucky. His check-in with himself is short.</p>
<p>“Yes, Daddy. P-please.” Steve kisses at Bucky’s slack mouth and delayed lips a few more times, eyes searching Bucky’s own for any unspoken reservations. Bucky’s dick is <em>achy </em>between them and it takes everything in him not to roll his body up and into Steve’s for any kind of relief. Daddy will give him that, he doesn’t need to grovel.</p>
<p>“You gonna be a good boy and show Mr. Walker how the best boy takes his Daddy’s cock?” Bucky’s whole body clenches up.</p>
<p>“Yes please, Daddy please.”</p>
<p>“Gonna show him how silly you get when Daddy feeds this pretty pussy a fat cock?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Uh-huh, mhmm.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Gonna show him how you were made to open up for me, made to take me in every single way?”</p>
<p>Bucky sobs.</p>
<p><em>“God, </em>Daddy yes please Steve, fuck me, make me take it.” Daddy kisses his lips, a little rougher, leaves them damn near pressed mouth-to-mouth when he whispers—</p>
<p>“You wanna show Mr. Walker what Daddy owns? You wanna show him your pretty pussy? T’make sure Daddy got it all wet and ready?”</p>
<p>Steve’s hips roll as he speaks, moves his entire body in a slow slide forward and backward, and it’s pathetic but it makes Bucky <em>sob, </em>makes him feel like he’s getting fucked and stuffed full to the brim, this kind of fuck much more mental than physical. He can feel Daddy’s hot cock in the crease of his hip, his stomach, and his insides roll with a wave of arousal.</p>
<p>Daddy’s giving him little kisses all over, (his lips, his cheeks, the dimple on his chin), as he lets Bucky think. It takes Bucky half a minute to realize that Daddy is asking Bucky if he wants to show Mr. Walker his pussy, to show off Daddy’s work and to show their guest where Bucky is going to get fucked by his Daddy. Bucky thinks about what it would be like to turn and show Mr. Walker his ass, his little hole, and that’s a bit startling, even in this slutty little mindset he’s in.</p>
<p>He doesn’t stick with that discomfort for long though because it’s shoved out of his mind when he thinks about the implications of such an action, of what showing that to someone means. It’s quite the gesture of ownership but Bucky goes hot all over for it, whimpers something new, thinks about whether or not there is any other higher show of dedication and possession.</p>
<p>Bucky bending over and showing Mr. Walker Daddy’s most precious of treasures, of where Bucky gets fucked silly by his Daddy, where Daddy owns and where no one else is allowed to be. Daddy showing Mr. Walker what he does to his boy.</p>
<p>Bucky’s trying to push off of the table with Daddy still on top of him.</p>
<p><em>“Hey, </em>hey now. S’that somethin’ you want to do? Huh?” Bucky squirms, whimpers.</p>
<p>“Please, Daddy yes, wanna…wanna show Mr. Walker how g-good you take care of me,” he whispers, words meant only for the two of them. Steve’s fingers dig into the sharp edge of his jaw, a little bit of a bite to it, but Bucky can’t blame his Daddy.</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>sweetheart </em>you…god you’re perfect, absolutely perfect. You gonna bend over that table and show Mr. Walker your pretty pink? All wet and messy and ready, <em>all for Daddy</em>?”</p>
<p>Bucky nods his head frantically, clears the fogginess a bit, murmurs, “Please, Daddy?” After one long and deep kiss, a wet one like Bucky loves, Steve is pulling back, kissing his way down Bucky’s body. He feels worshipped. He musters up whatever concentration he has left into scooting around to the other side of the coffee table, looking up through his lashes at Mr. Walker. He looks somewhat confused, relaxed back into his chair, but maybe that’s the curiosity he’s feeling.</p>
<p>When his chest presses up against the coffee table Bucky whimpers. It’s cold against his heated skin, his sensitive nipples. His hands only shake somewhat when he reaches behind his body with both arms, finds his ass cheeks. His dick jolts beneath him, having to scoot forward some to make sure that Daddy’s work can be seen and appreciated in full. It hurts in the smallest of ways yet makes Bucky even harder.</p>
<p>“Bucky is bein’ nice enough to show you his pretty pussy, wants to show you Daddy’s work, Walker,” Steve explains in a gravelly voice, a noise that sounds like Steve might start growling out territorial noises. It makes Bucky sigh.</p>
<p>“Show ‘im, sugar. Ask him if Daddy did a good job.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh. </em>
</p>
<p>Bucky’s fingers flex into the fleshy parts of his ass cheeks, body immediately reacting to Daddy’s gentle order. He can feel the cool kiss of the air on his most intimate of parts the moment he spreads his ass open wide to show off. He can feel how wet he is. He can feel how swollen and sensitive his balls are, smooshed against the table but on full-display as well. He feels raw and open and vulnerable but the safety net of Steve’s guidance and support is immense and comforting. He hears what sounds like a sharp intake of breath but could just be another noise being stifled and suppressed.</p>
<p>“Did…D-Daddy do a good job, Mr. Walker? Did Daddy get my p-pussy all ready?”</p>
<p>Steve moans when Bucky coos the words out, a chaotic noise but then a curse. Hearing it makes Bucky involuntarily moan in response, Daddy’s pleased noises making Bucky feel even better, making him feel a little more desperate. His fingers slip on one cheek and he readjusts his hand as Daddy purrs, “Show ‘im how hungry you are, babylove, show ‘im how that pussy is about to work my cock.”</p>
<p>Bucky squeals, noise muffled behind his bitten lip. He turns his cheek into the coffee table, locks eyes with Daddy sitting back on the couch. Bucky goes a bit cross-eyed when he finds Daddy’s hand wrapped around his own cock, fisting it slowly, making it wet and weepy. Bucky’s mouth waters in response, feels like he’s going to vibrate and come apart at the seams. He’s got his eyes locked onto Daddy’s as he clenches his little pink hole down onto nothing, makes a sad noise as he does it again and again, chases after the residual feeling of Daddy’s fingers in his pussy.</p>
<p>Mr. Walker curses. It’s the faintest of noises but Bucky hears it, blushes profusely at it, whimpers <em>some more. </em></p>
<p>“He sure looks ready for it, Rogers,” Mr. Walker says gruffly but Daddy is quick to the punch.</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me—he asked you the question. Tell Bucky.”</p>
<p>Bucky’s pussy clenches again, <em>hard, </em>at Daddy being so demanding to another Dom. This time Mr. Walker doesn’t hesitate, is maybe learning.</p>
<p>“Bucky, your Daddy did a good job at opening you up.”</p>
<p>Bucky longs to hear specific praise, sweet praise, but he realizes with a gutted noise that he obviously doesn’t want that from Mr. Walker; he wants that from his Daddy.</p>
<p>“See, baby? You’re so good for me, so good for your Daddy. Such a sweet boy with a sweet pussy. You ready to show Mr. Walker how a good boy gets fucked?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>WOW, this was a big deal! Come talk to me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Every cell that makes up Bucky’s physical body desires to be good for Steve. </p><p>“My sweet boy’s an angel, wantin’ to serve his Daddy like this, fucked out and still worried about how his Daddy feels.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All my love to everyone who helped keep me hyped and focused throughout this process. I lub you. </p><p>I am emotional af and I really really hope you enjoy. 🥺</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“See, baby? You’re so good for me, so good for your Daddy. Such a sweet boy with a sweet pussy. You ready to show Mr. Walker how a good boy gets fucked?”</em>
</p><p>Bucky’s nodding his head immediately, closing his eyes as his own fingers dig harshly into the fleshy part of his ass. The praise is heady, washes down Bucky’s spine like a warm rush of water. His Daddy is perfect, and Bucky loves him so much, <em>so much. </em>He is more than ready to move on, wants to be filled, wants to be loved in a way only his Daddy can love him.</p><p>“Please, Daddy! <em>Daddy…</em>”</p><p>“Get up here, Buck. Come on.”</p><p>He scrambles. He crawls off that tabletop, knees hitting the floor, hands carrying him, and scurries right over to the couch. Daddy’s eyes are on him the entire time, Bucky able to feel them when he has to avert his own, and when he reaches for Steve’s knee, hands are on him. He reacts to the touch as if he didn’t just have it a few minutes ago, keens and leans into it, limbs and joints turning to rubber as Daddy picks him up and helps him into his lap.</p><p>“Turn around,” Steve guides a bit eagerly and Bucky has no choice but to be pushed and spun.</p><p>
  <em>“Ohhh…” </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, Buck gotta show you off properly, c’mere.”</p><p>It was different when he was merely looking over at Mr. Walker, different when he could avert his eyes, move them back to the natural forward direction of his position. He can’t do that now. This natural forward positioning has him looking much more head-on at Mr. Walker than any other place previous. Their guest isn’t one to shy away from intimidation, from pressure, locks onto Bucky’s eyes as soon as the moment allows.</p><p>Bucky’s brain feels like it’s pooling around and out his ears, feels like he has one toe left touching the Earth before he floats away on this cumulonimbus cloud of Daddy sugar. But he’s a good boy, is Daddy’s boy. He may not be able to think of anything but the way Daddy’s hands feel pushing his ass cheeks apart to settle his cock between them, but he knows what this is. He recognizes it as a challenge of sorts, which is why he doesn’t pull his half-lidded eyes away from Mr. Walker.</p><p>This man is going to watch Bucky lose his goddamn mind at the hand of his Daddy.</p><p>Steve doesn’t say much of anything to Bucky as he moves and lowers Bucky to his liking, his legs splayed on either side of Daddy’s thighs on the couch, feet tucked. Bucky barely has enough brainpower to think to put his hands in front of him, to grab onto Steve’s knees, as he tilts his ass back. Daddy says something about how well-trained his pussy is. Bucky still doesn’t look away from Mr. Walker as he licks his lips in a nonverbal response.</p><p>“Fuck, I want it,” he chooses to then say, to breathe out in a rush as that familiar cock pushes, <em>breaches, </em>slides. Daddy takes care of Bucky, always does, and Bucky feels no discomfort, no reason to stop or go cautiously slow. Bucky’s hungry.</p><p>“You got it, babylove <em>there ya go. </em>Sit back and take it, come on.”</p><p>Bucky soaks up the power of being able to take without much guidance or permission. His mouth has been full of fingers and cock, his pussy has been spread open by fingers. Nothing, <em>absolutely nothing</em>, compares to Daddy’s cock filling up his ass. The first slide in is Bucky’s favorite and he garbles and chokes on some nonsense words about how good Daddy feels, about how much he loves Daddy filling him up. Hands on his waist are tight, one moving up to squeeze at the nape of his neck for a moment. Lips on his shoulder coo praise.</p><p>“Nothin’ like this pussy, baby. Nothin’. Never want, never need, another fuckin’ boy again <em>fuck, </em>Bucky yes.”</p><p>Bucky moans, a lower noise than the ones he’s been letting out as of recently, right from the basement of his chest. He feels his ass meet the crease of Daddy’s hips, the fabric of his work slacks, and nothing stops him as he presses and grinds in tight. It’s crushingly deep, <em>so deep, </em>but Bucky doesn’t care, doesn’t mind, <em>wants more. </em>He’ll always want more, always want too much of Steve in every way possible.</p><p><em>So full. </em>He thinks he says it out loud, maybe he doesn’t. Sometimes Daddy knows exactly what he’s thinking and acts accordingly, says things in response to Bucky’s thoughts, some sort of Daddy Magic Bucky can’t process. He does this now, two wide palms taking home on Bucky’s hips and squeezing so tight Bucky hears himself hiss.</p><p><em>“Fuck, </em>you’re so full aren’t you, sugar? Yeah? That pussy eats Daddy right up, doesn’t it? Eats me up so good. Tell Mr. Walker how it feels, go on.”</p><p>Bucky hasn’t been given direction in the realm of movement, but he rolls his hips, lets his head fall forward some as he grinds on his Daddy’s cock. He allows for his hips to find that natural movement, forward and backwards, stretches his insides in a way that makes the tug of his rim lie right on that yummy side of painful. The push and pull of his ass makes him keen, makes him whine and loll his head to one side. It also easily leads to his ass moving in more of a bounce, lower half bobbing up and down while he holds his upper half steady.</p><p>“Mr. Walker,” Bucky whines into his moan, noise surely inappropriate. “Daddy feels so good inside… inside of me. Always does, always makes my pussy feel so… <em>so good.</em>”</p><p>“My fuckin’ pleasure, sugar. <em>Fuck,” </em>Daddy tells him in a voice that is low like a whisper but more than likely unintentionally so. Big hands slide up Bucky’s back and then down, a touch so light it almost makes Bucky huff in frustration before one of those hands clasps onto the nape of Bucky’s neck. Bucky hasn’t stopped moving, hasn’t stopped popping his ass, raising and lowering it to his heart’s content. He feels heavy with cock, feels like he’s bursting with it, can’t stop making slutty appreciative noises.</p><p>“You gonna show Mr. Walker how you work Daddy’s cock? Gonna show our guest how good you are at ridin’ me?”</p><p>
  <em>“Daddy…!” </em>
</p><p>“Do it, Bucky—put on a show, big boy. You come when I say, you hear me?”</p><p>Bucky’s going to come soon. He has only just started rolling his hips, pushing himself up, and the pressure is already so immense between his legs that it feels like he’s <em>this </em>close to his climax. Daddy makes him feel <em>so good.</em></p><p>Bucky loves being on top. When he first got together with Steve it wasn’t something he found himself doing much. Most of the people he hooked up with never gave him the chance and if they did it wasn’t anything earth-shattering because of his lack of experience; it was a vicious cycle. But with Steve it was apparent from the get-go that Daddy wanted to be the one to lay on his back from time to time, wanted to take and touch and feel and watch. With encouragement and love and a few pinches on the ass, Bucky came to love riding his Daddy.</p><p>And it shows now when it is needed most.</p><p>Bucky’s fingers dig into Steve’s clothed knees as he adjusts, makes sure his own legs are situated in the way they are most conducive to riding Daddy’s cock backwards. The movement spreads his legs apart some more, makes that stretch light Bucky up inside and bear down onto it. When he starts to move, he isn’t prepared and <em>he</em> is the one in control.</p><p>“There you go, s’my boy. Bounce just like you like, baby. Can you lean forward a bit more? Show Daddy that greedy pussy?”</p><p>The only reason Bucky falls forward is because his elbows go weak. He’ll always go more than a bit weak for Daddy wanting to watch, knowing Daddy’s eyes are right there where they’re connected. He can’t lean forward much but he gives it his best effort, deepens the curve of his spine. It makes Daddy’s cock feel like it’s leaning up against Bucky’s sweet spot cruelly, even with a restricted slide.</p><p>“That’s good, Buck,” Daddy coos, hand pushing at Bucky’s ass cheek, <em>watching. </em>“Walker, somethin’ else you should know about sweet Bucky here… <em>shit… </em>is how he likes to play bashful, likes to work that blush and weepy eyes to his advantage…”</p><p>Bucky whimpers, sticks out his bottom lip a tad because he knows that does it for Daddy too, a bit of a pout. It doesn’t even occur to Bucky that Daddy can’t see his face.</p><p>“… But Bucky loves bein’ a slut.”</p><p>Bucky’s moan is angry one, a huffy one, one that shows his unhappiness for being <em>seen</em>, for being so known. His breathing has picked up, his brain so offline he had barely realized his legs are beginning to burn. He wants to pay attention to what Daddy is telling Mr. Walker but it’s so hard, <em>so hard, </em>when all he can think about is Daddy’s hands and Daddy’s cock and Daddy’s legs and—</p><p>
  <em>“Daddy…” </em>
</p><p>When Mr. Walker speaks it startles Bucky for the umpteenth time tonight. He has been looking at their guest, but it has been a few minutes since Bucky has seen him.</p><p>“How do you work with that? How do you… ensure he isn’t tricking you or that you aren’t pushing too hard in the opposite direction?”</p><p>Daddy’s answer is immediate and a constant one—</p><p>“Trust.”</p><p>
  <em>“Fuck…” </em>
</p><p>They’re veering into that space again, that space where they talk about Bucky as if he isn’t here. It was world-tilting before but it’s sending Bucky back into that deeper level of sweetness dizzyingly fast.</p><p>“This isn’t anything you’ll know just from Dom instincts alone; this is something that grows at the same rate as you learn about your boy,” Daddy explains and Bucky’s head falls forward some, locking his arms on Daddy’s knees as he bounces. He’s good at popping his ass, good at getting that perfect height, of leaning into that strain and digging into the downstroke. It’s something he can do in his sleep, in his sweet foggy mindset, which is where he finds himself going now—instinctual movement.</p><p>“Bucky isn’t deceitful, wouldn’t want to make his Daddy upset. That’s built with that trust and love we have worked hard towards. My trust for Buck is infinite,” Daddy explains, hands softly stroking at Bucky’s body, his sides, his back, his thighs. Daddy has leaned back now, is watching Bucky’s one man show with a front row seat.</p><p>“That can be part of the fun though, Bucky begging a bit, putting on an innocent façade, pouting and whimpering. If that’s what he wants from time to time I trust him to not take advantage of me. I’ll give it to him if he wants it…”</p><p>Bucky’s noises are soft, are catching in his throat with each breath. <em>God, </em>his Daddy knows him, knows him so fucking well. This night is going to make things different. They’ll be the same after this, but they’ll be <em>different</em>. Bucky has always been aware that Steve loves him and knows him but <em>hearing </em>it, hearing all of the thoughts that Steve keeps to himself and thinks on his own, is incomprehensible. All Bucky can feel is love, devotion, and he feels it so much his core begins to stir.</p><p>Bucky knows Daddy can always tell when he is about to come, doesn’t even try to hide it ever, so he is well-aware that this time is no different. His thighs quake on either side of Steve and he sounds like he can’t keep his head above water, like he’s drowning, and then there’s a tight arm around his waist, just one, holding him still, holding him <em>down</em>.</p><p>“<em>Bucky</em>…” Steve coos into his ear, sitting up with grace and ease and all-powerful Daddy energy. Bucky wishes he could cover his face, is embarrassed that he’s a brush away from beginning to weep as well as come. He brings a hand up to cover his mouth hoping it will help with its tremble and to maybe keep his noises contained, but Steve’s teeth dig into his shoulder with a noise.</p><p>“Don’t you fucking <em>dare</em> try to hide your noises. You wanna cry, you do it, sugar. Right here in fron’a me and Mr. Walker, you fuckin’ cry from getting dicked down so well.”</p><p>Bucky <em>sobs</em>, yanks his hand away from his mouth and unintentionally smacks it down onto Steve’s thigh because—</p><p>“<em>Fuck, </em>Daddy I’m gonna come!”</p><p>Steve doesn’t move, Bucky doesn’t move, no one moves, and Bucky <em>still </em>fights his orgasm with every inch of his own self-control. The tightening of his stomach, his lower half, makes him clench down onto Daddy’s cock, and <em>fuck </em>he hadn’t thought about that chain reaction. It makes him groan, makes it come out as a growl, and he feels Steve’s lips light a path from his shoulder to his ear, arm still tight around his middle.</p><p>“<em>Bucky…</em>” he tries again, tone slow and centering, lips on the skin behind his ear sending goosebumps down Bucky’s arms. He’s so close, so fucking close, is more sensitive than he has been in so long and he’s worried he won’t be a good boy and he wants to be, needs to be!</p><p>“Daddy…” he whimpers out with a hiccup, knows the older man wants a response. Steve purrs, sucks on Bucky’s earlobe a tiny bit before his free hand is coming up to wrap around the front of Bucky’s throat. Bucky can’t help but let out a small pathetic noise, wants to roll his hips and fuck himself back down onto Daddy’s thick cock.</p><p>“Can you come without permission tonight?”</p><p>Bucky whines, bucks and pouts for two seconds in Daddy’s grip before shaking his head with a short, “No, Daddy.” His torso clenches in retaliation, angry dick jumping, but Bucky can’t move, held down onto Daddy’s cock by Daddy himself, breath hot on his neck. He feels so very owned.</p><p>“Do you want to come?”</p><p>“<em>Mhmm, </em>please, Daddy <em>please </em>please let me come,” he tries, snatching up the opportunity to beg openly and with purpose. Steve exhales loudly into his neck, arguably a groan, and the hand around his throat moves up to cup his jaw, his chin, in a tight grip.</p><p>“I think we should ask Mr. Walker if you should come. He is our guest after all,” Daddy suggests in a slightly playful whisper, turning Bucky’s head in the direction of the third person in the room. It gives Steve perfect access to Bucky’s ear in full, gives Bucky an unavoidable view of Mr. Walker spread out in his chair, pants tented lewdly. They both see it, him and Steve, both unable to miss the way their guest has a physical manifestation of his arousal to watching what is transpiring, to watching them <em>fuck. </em></p><p>Steve bites at the hinge of his jaw, hisses, “<em>Ask him, Bucky</em>—ask him what he thinks,” and Bucky moans through the handle on his chin, squeezes his pussy tight around Daddy’s cock in selfish retaliation before—</p><p>“M… Mr. Walker can… c-can I come? <em>Please?” </em></p><p>He isn’t prepared for two things: for Mr. Walker to openly bring his hand down to palm at his erection in a somehow quick but slow movement and for him to casually deny him with a quick and cold, “No, pet.”</p><p>He didn’t even <em>think</em>, didn’t even consider Bucky’s question, just went with what he wanted, not what Bucky wanted or what <em>they </em>wanted. Bucky’s been so good, he’s been a good boy, has done everything Daddy wanted. He just wants to come, wants to come apart on Daddy’s cock, and he won’t let him, <em>he</em> <em>said no</em>. He wants his reward, wants it in full, <em>but he said no. </em></p><p>He doesn’t realize he’s sobbing in Daddy’s grip until there are gentle “<em>Shhh”</em>s in his ear, and he’s unable to catch his breath in full.</p><p>“You see how he reacted to you actin’ like you didn’t give a shit about him, Walker? It doesn’t seem like a big deal to the two of us but when your baby is in this headspace they’re fragile, <em>so fragile</em>. It isn’t what you say it’s how you say it. You want to edge him, fine that’s your choice, but you gotta be soft. You can still be a Dom when you’re bein’ a Daddy but you gotta balance it out.”</p><p>Hearing Daddy’s voice even if he can’t make out the words is soothing, but Bucky’s been stung, still hurts. He knows his face has to be wet, knows he’s thrashing more than normally acceptable in Daddy’s grip. He’s still so keyed up that even such a devastating blow hasn’t taken the entire edge off his need to come.</p><p>“<em>Daddy…!” </em></p><p>“<em>Shh, </em>baby I know, I know. You wanna come so bad, can feel it, can hear it. If I wanted you to hold off and save it though you’d do that for me wouldn’t you, sugar? If I told you you were doin’ such a good job at keepin’ my dick wet and I still wanted to keep you wigglin’ on it, you’d hold off, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>Bucky knows Daddy’s words are meant for Walker, are part of this whole teaching thing, but Bucky goes a little soft in the head at them. He enjoys being used by Daddy in such a way and this time not coming sounds much more appealing, more like a gift he can give to Steve.</p><p>Bucky has the best Daddy in the whole entire world.</p><p>His cries turn to whimpers and he sniffles in a way that will be embarrassing to him later, but he nods his head, lets Daddy move and swirl his hips in a tight grip.</p><p>“I…I would, Daddy,” he breathes as his head falls back onto Daddy’s shoulder and Steve grunts, makes a gruff noise and squeezes Bucky all over before laying back into the couch, taking Bucky with him. He isn’t even startled by the movement, trusts Daddy implicitly to keep him safe, and he’s adjusting his legs without thought, spreading them a bit before digging his heels into the couch cushion on either side of Daddy’s thighs.</p><p>“I know you would, sugar. Because you’re perfect, my perfect boy. And you know what?” Bucky makes a soft questioning noise before Daddy growls into his ear, “Good fucking thing <em>I’m</em> your Daddy and that whether or not you come is <em>my </em>choice, <em>my </em>decision.”</p><p>It’s like music to Bucky’s ears. He hasn’t stopped crying, but these tears are different, just as emotional but a different sentiment entirely. He’s wrapped up in Daddy’s grip and his arms, rests on his body, larger one supporting smaller one, at Daddy’s mercy entirely and it’s bliss. Somehow Daddy is moving his hips, sloppy tight rolls from below, just enough to graze that heavy cock inside of Bucky across his prostate.</p><p>“Good fucking thing that you’re <em>my</em> boy, that I own you, that no one else will <em>ever</em> have you. Walker said no but I say yes, baby, and you listen to me. <em>Why?</em> Why do you listen to me?”</p><p>Bucky’s groaning low and long, a bit of a hysterical edge to his voice, before Daddy is even done with his words.</p><p>“’Cause’re my Daddy,” Bucky slurs out, eyes dropping closed momentarily, feeling an odd mixture of buzzing energy and droopy sweet space. The hand around his neck tightening brings him to more of an awareness with a small noise. Bucky barely registers the sticky wet noise of Daddy fucking into him, but he sure feels it, can barely keep his mouth shut at how good it feels to be fucked in such a position. Bucky feels like Daddy’s cock is simultaneously in his ass <em>and </em>in his throat and he almost sobs in relief.</p><p>“Say it again. Let him know.”</p><p>Bucky knows who “him” is, everyone knows who “him” is, and Bucky isn’t even embarrassed in the slightest to have Steve so blatantly call someone else out in front of the three of them, fingers digging tight into the dress slacks encasing either of Steve’s meaty thighs.</p><p>“You’re my Daddy, <em>my </em>Daddy, <em>ohh</em>.”</p><p>“L’always be your Daddy, baby don’t you ever forget it. And Daddy wants you to come. You gonna make a mess for Daddy? Give everyone a show?”</p><p>Bucky wails like he’s wounded.</p><p><em>“Uh-huh, </em>yeah yeah <em>yeah</em>—”</p><p>“Go on, sugar your Daddy wants you to come,” Steve tells him, breath hot on his skin, thrusts jerky and tight. Bucky struggles for air, words a shock somehow.</p><p>“M’gonna make it good, g-gonna… gonna be so good for you, Daddy!”</p><p>“Always so good for me, Bucky.”</p><p>It’s an immediate response, a true one, one that didn’t require a single moment’s thought on Steve’s part. Just like Walker was quick to deny Bucky of his pleasure without thought, just a rapid show of power, Steve is there reassuring Bucky that he’s a good boy in the same fashion. The two men are on the opposite ends of the spectrum and that’s the point of this entire night but it’s beautiful in Bucky’s eyes, to have yet another concrete example of why his Daddy is the best Daddy. </p><p>When he comes, he thinks he hears himself sobbing out <em>“I love you” </em>over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer. He’s never felt release such as this, body shuddering with such visceral reaction, overcome by sheer feeling. He shakes all over: his insides, his chin, his core, his thighs. If Steve didn’t have such a strong grip on him, he’d surely dissolve into a heap of mess right onto the floor.</p><p>His orgasm is almost painful, having been held in for so long and then let out in a damn near violent moment. His hands reach up and behind him, scramble as his belly is splashed with his own come, fingers digging into sandy blond hair. He’s almost fearful of his dick being on the receiving end of any sort of touch, afraid it would be too excruciating, that it would take away from the bone-deep pleasure. He wants to be touched elsewhere though, wants to feel, turns his head and seeks out the side of Daddy’s face with his lips as he mewls.</p><p>“S’my boy, there ya go. Get it all, Buck—get it all. Show him what your Daddy does to you.”</p><p>It’s devastating. It’s euphoric. It almost <em>hurts. </em>It’s everything he could have ever wanted in this moment, lit from the inside out, feeling like a ball of chaotic pleasurable energy. It’s his pleasure but it isn’t; it’s <em>theirs. </em>Bucky shares his pleasure with Steve, with his Daddy. He digs his teeth into the side of Daddy’s jaw, just a little something for stringing him along all night, but his nibbles are followed up with a few loud kitten licks. He whines, <em>keens, </em>when one of Daddy’s hands slips along his hip, fingers and palm wrapping tight around his dick. He thrashes in such a possessive and focused grip.</p><p>“Gotta get it all, Buck, <em>shh</em> <em>shh, </em>come on.”</p><p>Daddy can have whatever he wants.</p><p>Bucky feels even more sensitive now, dick wrung dry, chest heaving. His thighs quake where they lie on either side of Daddy’s own and Bucky just knows he’s flush all over, can tell simply because of how his orgasm felt washing over him. He registers Daddy speaking, low in his ear, some undetectable words and then <em>“messy”</em>. A sticky hand is wiped across his chest, indifferent and careless. A languid rub and swirl at his nipple makes him let out a ragged exhale as he lolls his face into Daddy’s cheek more.</p><p>Even being so incredibly overstimulated, he finds his bottom grinding, feels his hips pulsing, riding out any last ounce of pleasure he can get. Daddy is still hard inside of him, a line of hot steel, thick and heavy in his pussy, <em>delicious</em>. Daddy groans, sandpaper to Bucky’s ears, and then there are fingers in Bucky’s mouth, heavy on his tongue.</p><p>“See, Walker?” Daddy rasps as he strokes at Bucky’s tongue. Bucky can’t stop his eyes from rolling as he tries his hardest to not gag as he sucks the digits down, torn because he almost <em>wants </em>to gag. Bucky inadvertently slurps around the two fingers in his mouth and Daddy curses.</p><p>“Look at this boy—covered in his own come, suckin’ on his Daddy’s fingers, body wantin’ more. Loves bein’ a slut for Daddy don’t you, Buck?”</p><p>Bucky melts. There’s no other explanation for his movements, his body’s reaction. His whole being unclenches, relaxes, falls back into Daddy’s chest, his lap. He rolls his tongue along the pads of Daddy’s fingers, whimpers lazily around a mouthful. He loves being full, loves giving himself over to his Daddy in such a way, in every way. He loves his Daddy.</p><p>Steve notices. When does he not? He notices everything about Bucky, notices things about his being that no one else ever will. Bucky feels Daddy’s rumble, his purr from within, and Steve is pressing his lips to Bucky’s ear, the side of his face.</p><p>“Daddy loves you too, Buck. Love you so fuckin’ much…”</p><p>Bucky can tell by Steve’s tone and his tone alone that they aren’t through. Daddy is hungry, is always so, and this drop in his voice, the newfound shakiness, shows Bucky just that—Daddy wants more. It’s a tone that sounds less controlled, a hint of desperation. His tone isn’t the only thing that shows Bucky the night has yet to come to a close.</p><p>Daddy is still achingly hard inside of him.</p><p><em>“Daddy…”</em> Bucky mewls, sniffles. “Why… you need’ta come, want you to… <em>come</em>.” He tries his hardest to wiggle his hips, to roll them where he lays back into Daddy’s chest, arms holding him stable. When Daddy opens his mouth, the words are for Mr. Walker. Bucky lets the noise of Daddy’s voice roll around inside his head anyway, hums at how deeply he feels it, that low rolling thunder.</p><p>“Your boy ever get this way, Walker? Does he reach the point where the only thing he wants is to be used? For you to come?”</p><p>It lights Bucky up from the inside out to hear such words coming from his Daddy. He hadn’t had those exact thoughts himself but that’s what he’s feeling, that’s what this is. <em>“… where the only thing he wants is to be used?” </em>is all Bucky hears, is all Bucky desires. What better way to show his love for his Daddy than to let him use Bucky’s body for his own pleasure?</p><p>Bucky’s fingers reach up and find his collar, fingertips sensitive to the touch, making the velvet feel <em>oh so soft </em>underneath them. He strokes at it, over the diamond in the middle, his sigh turning into a whimper at the difference in sensation of <em>velvet </em>and <em>stone</em>. <em>“Nothing but the best for you,  love,” </em>Daddy had told him. Bucky feels like a treasure.</p><p>“He does, he does.  I’m worried it’s… it’s only because it may be what is expected and not what he truly desires,” Mr. Walker explains softly, voice so different than Daddy’s. It’s rougher, colder. It isn’t warm, isn’t laced with sugar. Daddy hums like he has an idea of what Mr. Walker has experienced in the past, but Bucky knows it’s full of sympathy and not experience. Daddy has never made him feel that way, as if Bucky were merely expected to do the things he does, not because he wants to.</p><p>Every cell that makes up Bucky’s physical body desires to be good for Steve.</p><p>“My sweet boy’s an angel, wantin’ to serve his Daddy like this, fucked out and still worried about how his Daddy feels.”</p><p>Daddy’s gone. This entire night has been for Bucky: showing Bucky off, making Bucky feel good, pushing Bucky in a way only Daddy could. Of course, it has been for Steve as well, putting what he and Bucky have on a pedestal, shining a light on what they’ve worked so hard together on for so long now. They have yet to truly focus on Steve though, on his pleasure and what he wants, on his orgasm.</p><p>Bucky knows by Daddy’s raspy clipped tone that he’s done waiting, that they have reached a point where Daddy is going to take what he wants and no one would dare try and stop him. Steve has attempted to explain this headspace to Bucky before, what it’s like when Bucky goes sweet but for Daddy, how it’s a much more focused sense of pleasure.</p><p>
  <em>“Can’t think about anything other than you and how… how perfect you are and how lucky I am because you let me love you. And how good it feels to be inside of you fuck, baby. I can’t believe someone who makes me feel so good lets me love them so completely. Goddamnit, c’mere you got me all—c’mere…” </em>
</p><p>Bucky is moving before he realizes it, movements not his own but being propelled by them nonetheless. He doesn’t think he could move his own body and limbs if he tried, boneless and heavy all over, neck weak. Steve stands, scoots forward and rises from the couch as if Bucky weren’t in his lap already. Bucky’s moan is low, a deep noise, and when Daddy slides out of Bucky, he <em>sobs, </em>hates it, hates it so much.</p><p><em>“Shh </em>hush, babylove y’alright, <em>shhh…”</em></p><p>Daddy moves him so quickly and with purpose that Bucky doesn’t even think his toes touch the ground. He feels like he floats through the movement, feels a bit inebriated, makes a small curious noise when his back comes in contact with the couch. Bucky’s eyelids feel heavy immediately, droopy with exhaustion, being placed on his favorite couch in his favorite position not helping one bit.</p><p>
  <em>“Daddy…” </em>
</p><p>Steve’s groan shakes around Bucky’s insides, his own chest and his neck.</p><p><em>“God, </em>look at him, Walker,” Daddy starts, and Bucky is almost certain that Mr. Walker’s view is the most limited it has been all night. If Bucky turns his head, he can see Mr. Walker sitting in his chair, a present figure all throughout the course of the evening. Bucky doesn’t though. He watches his Daddy work his dress shirt fully open, button by button, there where he kneels on the couch. He watches Daddy watch <em>him</em>, eyes on Bucky’s own, running down the length of his body where he lays beneath his Daddy. Bucky mewls.</p><p>
  <em>“Daddy…” </em>
</p><p>“This is one of my favorite Buckies,” Daddy tries again, sounding like he needs to clear his throat as he peels his shirt off, not bothering with his pants. Bucky isn’t sure if Daddy is talking to him or Mr. Walker. He doesn’t care.</p><p><em>“This </em>Bucky. This Bucky that is so fucked out he can’t do anything but cry for his Daddy. This Bucky that is upset to the point of tears because he wants his Daddy’s cock back in him so badly. This Bucky that can’t even pick his neck up to properly beg his Daddy to make him whole again…”</p><p>Daddy’s words have a physical presence that lays heavy over Bucky’s lax form on the couch. They caress and roll down Bucky’s neck, his chest, his spent dick. They add another coating of sugar all around the inside of Bucky’s brain, a feeling of elevation that has him whining gently, almost cooing himself. Daddy’s words have him spreading his legs there on the couch even knowing he’s far too sensitive for anything to feel like anything <em>but</em> overstimulation.</p><p>Daddy’s shirt falls to the floor with a movement Bucky barely sees; all he can look at is Daddy’s naked skin, his chest, broad and golden and hairy. Daddy’s chest is Bucky’s favorite place on Earth. It’s where he lays his head at night, where he presses his cheek when Daddy pulls him in for a hug. It’s what protects and cradles his Daddy’s heart within, keeps it beating and healthy and <em>present. </em></p><p>When Daddy grabs for and cradles Bucky’s thighs in a well-known grasp, Bucky is certain he’s crying. When his legs are pressed at the knee, <em>back, </em>the tops of his thighs lying flat against his own chest, he’s never felt more vulnerable in his entire life.</p><p>He’s almost nervous, about how different things will feel after tonight, about how blindingly present the love he holds for Steve in his entire being will feel. He can’t <em>feel</em> the tears on his face, but he <em>can</em> feel the way his noises get caught up and tangled in his throat, in his chest, unable to do anything but let them pass. Steve hums, makes a sad and sweet Daddy noise, lets his cock slip and slide along Bucky’s sensitive rim, his pussy.</p><p>“When Bucky gets this way, his own pleasure becomes insignificant to him. His Daddy’s pleasure is monumental. It isn’t persuasive or coercive, to get Bucky to focus more on his Daddy’s pleasure, ain’t that right, Buck? Your Daddy feelin’ good makes you feel good, doesn’t it, sugar?”</p><p>Bucky can’t respond verbally, nods his head in a movement that is hopefully detectable.</p><p><em>“Fuckin’ hell, </em>you gonna let Daddy have his? You and your tight little body gonna make your Daddy feel good?” Daddy inquires and Bucky’s chest <em>quakes. </em>He can’t even pick up his arms, can’t even grab for his Daddy, tries to take in a stable breath but moans instead, cries. A jolt of his legs, a shove of a movement, into his chest keeps him present.</p><p>“Daddy, I… can’t. No, Daddy I can’t…!”</p><p>Bucky can. He knows this. Daddy knows it more. Sometimes Bucky just feels too much, is afraid of those feelings in the moment and needs Daddy’s help, his guidance. His feelings can be scary sometimes, but he knows his words, the ones that make things stop, <em>yellow </em>and <em>red. </em>He doesn’t want to use them right now, doesn’t need to. Daddy knows <em>“no”</em> doesn’t work, not between the two of them, not after establishing a system that works so well for them now.</p><p>Bucky also really likes it when Daddy is a little mean.</p><p>“You can,” Daddy tells him just as he imagined Daddy would. “You will. You will for your Daddy.”</p><p>When Daddy presses his cock back into Bucky’s pussy, the stretch and glide alone making Bucky’s lip curl, there’s a big hand wrapped loosely around his neck. Bucky wants to arch into it, wants to make it to where Daddy can’t feel anything but the collar that binds them together under his palm. If Bucky could talk, he’d tell his Daddy to grip him tighter. Instead he whines, moans, <em>sobs</em>, arms weak and ineffective when he brings them up to press at Daddy’s chest, his arm.</p><p><em>Why does it feel so good to be full? </em>Bucky asks himself, eyes locked onto Steve’s above him hoping maybe Daddy can hear his question and answer it.</p><p>“Swear to fuckin’ god there ain’t a better feeling than you, Buck,” Daddy tells him, curses, breath heavy and chest heaving. Bucky takes comfort in visibly seeing that his Daddy seems to be as affected as he is in this moment, bodies and beings having different ways of projecting such a thing.</p><p>“S’pussy’s always so greedy, <em>s’hungry</em>, always hungry for my Daddy cock. Could feed this pussy breakfast, lunch, and dinner and it’d still ask Daddy for another helping, ain’t that right?”</p><p>Bucky can’t breathe. He doesn’t know if he wants to breathe though. Does breathing take away from the enormous pleasure he feels by being filled up in such a way? He isn’t sure, but he holds his breath anyway, holds it, <em>holds it </em>until what’s left of it is pushed from his throat, forced from his lungs. He gasps, turns his head, is—</p><p><em>“Daddy, </em>so… so full. Big, <em>big, </em>Daddy…”</p><p>Daddy <em>snarls. </em></p><p>“You gotta be careful with your boy when he gets like this, Walker,” Daddy explains, voice pointed and gruff, eyes closing briefly and chin tipping in disbelief when he bottoms out inside of Bucky. “Buck can’t think when he gets like this, can barely talk. He gets scared when he feels himself slippin’, when Daddy makes him feel so <em>so </em>good.”</p><p>Bucky can feel his Daddy’s hands on his thighs, is extra sensitive to how big and how smooth they are, that edge of manly every-day wear and tear making him mewl. Daddy keeps him open just like he wants, knees to his chest, legs spread, on full display. The hand around his neck squeezes <em>tight </em>once before moving, before Daddy is taking his breath away once more by leaning down, body a blanket over Bucky’s own.</p><p>Even with the coverage and security of Daddy’s body, Bucky feels himself scrambling for any kind of contact to keep him present and focused. Daddy’s lips, <em>his eyes, </em>make it so hard to stay tethered. He’s gotta be <em>good </em>for Daddy.</p><p>“Bucky just needs that guidance, that extra Daddy push. He needs his Daddy to tell him it’s okay, that it’s okay if he leaves. Daddy’ll take good care of him, the best care…”</p><p>Bucky doesn’t need to be told Daddy’s words are for him even though they are spoken to Walker. At least he thinks they are. He feels the stroke of them on his lips, on his cheek, inside of his chest. He feels that familiar sensation of nothing short of euphoria rise up in his throat, tingles on the back of his neck. He hasn’t felt this in so long, keens when the sensation settles onto his shoulders. Daddy feels too good inside of him.</p><p><em>“Yeah, </em>there he goes, uh-huh,” Daddy whispers, velvet soft on Bucky’s cheek, hips pulling back, <em>oh. </em>“He just needs that extra reminder that Daddy loves him, that Daddy loves when he gets like this. It makes his Daddy feel like the best Daddy in the whole wide world.”</p><p>Bucky’s neck falls back into the cushion of the couch upon hearing Daddy’s words. He can’t close his mouth, can’t blink away tears quick enough to see clearly out of his eyes. Daddy grabs for Bucky’s arm, gives him a quick, “Put your hands on me, Buck, hold on,” to which Bucky obeys. He watches as his hands run up Daddy’s shoulder, one and then the other, feels Daddy’s hair under his fingers. He keeps going, keeps winding, Daddy moving with his grip.</p><p>He doesn’t know how he moves his limbs, but he does it for Daddy.</p><p>Daddy’s skin feels like it’s on fire underneath his touch. Bucky loves it, wants the warmth even though he’s burning from the inside out, a flame himself. Shoulders, neck, head, hair; Bucky touches his Daddy and holds on like a good boy. He turns his head, rubs his cheek against Daddy’s bearded one, lets his sobs fall into Daddy’s skin as the older man’s hips begin to roll.</p><p>“S’alright, Buck—I know what makin’ your Daddy feel good does to you, sugar…”</p><p>Bucky feels good. He feels great. It’s indescribable really, the way his body feels featherlight yet heavy with pleasure, the way his body pulses with a need so marrow-deep that it leaves him breathless.</p><p>“Just wan’you to feel good, don’t… don’t wanna go when—”</p><p>Both Daddy’s voice and the stroke of his cock inside of Bucky have his words dying off abruptly with a whine.</p><p><em>“Bucky, </em>sweetheart,” Daddy coos as he continues to fuck in and out of Bucky, glide powerful, heavy slide something <em>sweet. </em>Daddy’s lips brush against Bucky’s own as he speaks, tilts his head back to nudge at Bucky’s nose. “You <em>do</em> make me feel good. You make me feel better than anyone else ever has, ever will, sugar. S’gonna make me feel even better to see my babylove let go.”</p><p>Bucky slips. The grip he has on the present, on reality, weakens with every press of Daddy’s cock, with every sweet noise breathed across his cheek. Bucky’s noises turn almost hysterical, long and low and damn near mournful. Daddy’s go more aggressive yet somehow keep their soothing edge. They pull on Bucky, pull him closer and closer to where they both want him to be.</p><p>“You gonna let go for your Daddy? Gonna show everyone what your Daddy can do to you?” Daddy husks out onto Bucky’s mouth, eyes dark with desire, cheeks flushed. <em>Daddy’s beautiful. </em>Bucky sobs, chest shaking as he brings a hand down to grab at Daddy’s ass, pulling and begging, feeling the muscles underneath his palm hard at work making Bucky feel the most pleasure he’s arguably ever felt in his entire life. Bucky watches as Daddy leans forward, kisses the corner of Bucky’s lax mouth, gives his bottom lip a little suck.</p><p>One more, “S’my boy come on, Buck,” and the last drop of self-control leaves Bucky in an overwhelming and blinding moment. The feeling of Daddy burying his cock inside of Bucky again and again <em>and again, </em>heavy in his pussy, moment heavy in his heart, is the last thing he feels before he melts away into a puddle of pure sensation underneath his Daddy.</p><p><em>“Daddy I’m</em>—<em>!”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I know, sugar. Go on now…” </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Steve is warm. He’s warm on the inside, warm on the outside, warm from head to toe. There’s a sense of peace that has settled over his shoulders and into his being in a way he’s never felt before. It’s more than a post-orgasm glow, more than the kind of relaxation that comes with it. He feels complete, he feels whole. He feels a sense of pride he can’t even begin to comprehend in this comedown.</p><p>But most of all he feels <em>loved</em>.</p><p>He feels such a profound sense of love that he catches himself blinking back tears as he turns his cheek and presses a set of soft kisses into the top of Bucky’s head. Bucky doesn’t respond though, the sweet thing floating harder than Steve’s ever been witness to, but that’s alright.</p><p>Steve already has all the answers he needs, etched into his bones after a night like tonight.  </p><p>“You two should really consider performing, showing others at the club what it is you two do here, what you have.”</p><p>Walker’s voice is grating in the very worst way possible. Steve almost forgets he’s still sitting in the chair across from them. There’s a ring to his ears now that the night is coming to a close, his own mind blissfully silent, the roar of the emotion dull and stretched out at this point.</p><p>“Not a chance in hell,” is Steve’s immediate response, gruff and pointed, and it’s a true one. Bucky’s breaths are slow and heavy, fall right on Steve’s neck where his face is pressed, brushes down and across Steve’s collarbones. He can feel the mess of himself on Bucky’s bottom seep through the material of his pants where Bucky’s legs lay across his lap. Steve’s arm pulls Bucky in even tighter against his Daddy’s chest, snug around Bucky’s shoulders, his neck, Steve feeling protective in every sense of the word, verging on an edge of paranoia.</p><p>His other arm reaches for a throw tossed over the back of the couch. The moments where Steve lets Walker look at his boy have come to a close and he does what he can to spread the blanket all across Bucky’s lax form, blanket falling around his ankles and then loosely pulled up around his shoulder. Steve presses his cheek against Bucky’s forehead when the younger lets out a set of small noises, whimpers, presses his own cheek into Steve’s chest. Steve never wants to move from this spot, from this mindset or position.</p><p>Walker hums, <em>“Hmm, </em>no?” and the look Steve gives him is enough of an answer, end of story.</p><p>“Well, I will consider myself incredibly lucky to have witnessed something so intimate and personal, Steve,” Walker compliments softly. It’s an odd tone coming from August, not one that Steve is used to. It is one that would normally make him uncomfortable but, in this moment, he is grateful for such gentleness. Steve only hums in response, hand running down to Bucky’s hip, down his thigh.</p><p>He feels Bucky’s lips press into his chest, his collarbone.</p><p>“I hope it was a valuable learning experience for you, August. I can’t say it’s one I’ll ever let happen again.”</p><p>It isn’t a threat; it’s the truth. Steve couldn’t be happier with the outcome of the night, of the experience. Bucky was phenomenal, exceeded every one of Steve’s expectations in full. He has no regrets at the current moment, but Steve is confident in his protectiveness, this fierceness that tells him <em>no</em>, this is not something that will happen again.</p><p>“It was arguably the most valuable thing I could have witnessed,” Walker reiterates without any hesitation, and Steve’s chest expands with pride. He turns his cheek, presses his lips into Bucky’s temple again. “You have…you have something very special here, Rogers. What you have with Bucky seems incredibly rare.”</p><p>Steve lets his eyes fall shut momentarily, allows himself to feel the emotions that flow over him in full. He knows that what he has with Bucky is not common, is well-aware that what they have is something that most people go their entire lives without experiencing. His arms around Bucky go tight, tight enough to twist and pull Bucky’s torso against his chest more. If he holds Bucky any closer, they may just morph into one being, he thinks.</p><p>His follow-up thought to that is that there would be no difference, no change, in the life they share now if they did become one.</p><p>Steve inhales, centers himself, lets the scent of Bucky guide him to that focus. He has to take a few more breaths when he feels Bucky’s lips latch onto his collarbone.</p><p>“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, hoping he sounds as gracious as he wants to before continuing on. “I think it’s important Bucky debrief with us at some point, that the three of us have some sort of conversation. I didn’t anticipate him leaving me this way.”</p><p>“Yes, of course.”</p><p>“What is on your mind now?” Steve asks after nodding his head. “What are your immediate thoughts about what you witnessed here tonight, on how different it is to be a Daddy?”</p><p>Steve thinks it might be a silly question at this point, Walker surely feeling a bit overwhelmed, but he is curious. What kind of teacher would he be if he didn’t assess his pupil’s learning at the end of such a lesson?</p><p>Walker sighs into the movement of a hand coming up to rub across his jaw, his mouth.</p><p>“I feel many things, but I cannot help but feel a great deal of shame. And gratitude. I am not who my boy has needed, and I have no ungodly idea why he has stuck around with me as long as he has.”</p><p>It’s a bittersweet moment. Steve’s chest squeezes tight with pride but also hurts for Walker and his partner. He wants to feel happiness about his own relationship and its strength, but he is also well-aware of the road ahead of Walker and how strenuous it will be for the two of them.</p><p>“I agree that you are going to need to prove yourself to him, that there may be some backpedaling, but he quite obviously has stuck around for a reason. Hopefully that reason is a positive one, one that has to do with his desire to be with you.”</p><p>Walker nods his head in understanding, leans forward to place his elbows onto his knees. He looks weary, eyes heavy, shoulders slumped.</p><p>“Where…where do you suggest I start?” he asks, and Steve is surprised by the question. He pauses to think, pauses more to soak in the feeling of Bucky’s fingers pressed into his chest weakly, to feel Bucky’s mouth suckle lightly at his neck, his collarbone. It could lull him to sleep if he put less effort into remaining in the present, into actively directing his attention to this conversation.</p><p>“A conversation needs to be had,” he starts, furrowing his own brow as he thinks out loud. “He needs to hear you admit your faults. You were in the wrong. You need to be honest with him and apologize and fully involve him in a plan moving forward. It’s going to feel like you’re starting over in full and…and honestly you are.”</p><p>Walker doesn’t sigh, but his breaths are heavy, slow. Bucky makes a soft noise that Steve feels on his skin more than he hears. Thinking about Walker’s road ahead has Steve basking in the appreciation and adoration he has for his own journey with Bucky, their own struggles and how they overcame them. He purses his lips where they rest on Bucky’s temple, lets them trail over to his forehead, the top of his head.</p><p>“He just…he just goes so easy for you, doesn’t he?”</p><p>Walker’s voice is laced with awe yet somewhat mournful. Steve looks up and over at him, eyes taking in the way the other man looks down at Bucky, at his boy in his lap. He’s cautious, always so, but he’s also confident that Walker won’t try anything at this point. Even with the way Steve has involved him in the night’s events, Steve is confident in Walker now understanding the importance, severity, and delicacy of the Daddy role.</p><p>Steve is also confident in his ability to break Walker’s arm if he were to try anything.</p><p>“He does,” he chooses to mumble back as he pulls his arm taut around Bucky’s neck, other hand squeezing and rubbing at Bucky’s hip. “He’s a sweet boy, the sweetest.”</p><p>Steve is grateful when Walker’s damn near immediate response is, “I should leave you two to it. These moments are precious and I’m an uninvited guest at this point.”</p><p>Steve smirks and watches as Walker rises to stand. His hands straighten out his jacket, his belt, gathering himself for his exit.</p><p>“I trust you won’t mention this outside of this room?” Steve asks in a quiet tone that is optimistic yet confident, threatening. Bucky shifts in his arms, his grip, slick lips running up the column of his neck. He doesn’t need to look down at his arms to know they are covered in goosebumps, hair standing on its ends to feel his boy’s lips on such a sensitive part of his body.</p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it. I know you would do the same.”</p><p>Steve nods in acknowledgement.</p><p>“I’ll be in touch soon about when the three of us can sit down and discuss what happened tonight. It’s important to me that Bucky be a part of our conversation.”</p><p>It is Walker’s turn to give his own nod of acknowledgment. Bucky’s slow even breaths have picked up, Steve able to feel the movement of them damp on his neck, always in tune. The younger wiggles slow like syrup, nestles into Steve’s chest with a bit more fervor, a whimper that morphs into a whine until his lips find Steve’s skin again. Steve is grateful that August is leaving.</p><p>“Good luck, August. If you need help with anything else in the future please let me know,” Steve kindly offers as Walker takes his leave and walks passed the couch, towards the hallway, ultimately out the front door.</p><p>“Thank you, Steve. I appreciate your generosity. Thank Bucky for me as well.”</p><p>When Steve hears the front door close, the silence he is met with is comforting. It brings a feeling of peace surprisingly profound, one that makes whatever trace amounts of alertness and paranoia he had left dissipate. He sighs in relief, lets his shoulders drop as he readjusts his hands on Bucky’s body just to feel the warmth of it beneath his palms, his fingers.</p><p>It’s inadvertently a jerky movement, one that has Bucky’s head tipping back, one that has Bucky making soft noises that Steve wants to bury himself in. He finds a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, looking down at Bucky before making a mirrored coo of a noise and pressing his lips to a sharp cheekbone. Bucky doesn’t open his eyes, but he smiles. He’s not ready to come back to Daddy just yet but he will soon.</p><p>Steve isn’t entirely sure what to expect considering how unprecedented Bucky’s reaction was tonight, but Steve knows that smile, these breaths, the amount of time it has taken Bucky to come back to him in the past—soon.</p><p>Steve’s mind shifts into the mode it always does right after a scene as intense as the one they’ve shared tonight. He needs to think about what Bucky needs, what the two of them need together; a rough plan should be formed. It has been so long since their last <em>proper</em> scene, the two of them sharing more and more naturally occurring moments in place of said proper scenes.</p><p>As exhausted as he is, he doesn’t need to try hard to focus in; he knows he needs to take care of his Bucky. He presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheekbone again, his temple, the corner of his mouth. His lips don’t leave Bucky’s skin as he thinks.</p><p>They need to shower, at least rinse off, but he knows that Bucky would like a proper shower. Maybe a bath would be better. Bucky loves baths, likes to be warm all over, loves when Daddy holds him proper in a bath. They’ll take a bath if Bucky wants one, he thinks, lips pursing on Bucky’s jawline.</p><p>With as hard as Bucky fell tonight, he’s going to need some water, something sweet. Steve’s mind immediately moves to the dark chocolate in the pantry, it’s special little place there next to Bucky’s other sweet-tooth cravings: chocolate-covered coffee beans, cosmic brownies, tropical fruit snacks. Bucky will sometimes slip a piece of chocolate into his mouth to suck on when he’s feeling a bit sad, but that chocolate has a main purpose and they both know it is for moments like this.</p><p>He’ll have to call into work tomorrow, convince Bucky that it’s okay if he misses his only class on Fridays. Nat can catch him up. Steve doesn’t think it’ll take too much convincing on his part to get Bucky to stay in bed with him in the morning, throughout the day. When he presses his lips to the corner of Bucky’s mouth again, he’s met with another tiny grin, a velvet soft noise.</p><p>He can’t bear the thought of being away from Bucky in the slightest.</p><p>“You ready to come back to your Daddy yet, sugar?” Steve whispers, hand rubbing circles on the meat of Bucky’s hip, skin hot like a furnace under his palm. Bucky is always warm, hates being cold in any way, insists on being wrapped up in a blanket or hoodie no matter what. His skin radiates heat against Steve’s own, his chest, his arms, skin soaking it up like a flower to the sun.</p><p>With a rough plan cemented into the back of his mind he lets himself comfortably relax, his mind and his body leaning into the sensation of Bucky more. He breathes the younger in once more, the sweet musky scent of him, turns his cheek and rubs it against the softness of Bucky’s hair, always so soft.</p><p>“I love you,” he whispers gently, presses the words right into Bucky’s ear, says it once more with a featherlight kiss for good measure. Once it’s out, he wants to say it again and again, never wants to hear anything but that come out of his own mouth for the rest of time. He wants to spend every day of this life doing just this, feeling this exact way, with Bucky in his arms, whispering his praise and love into his skin.</p><p>He can’t stop saying it.</p><p>
  <em>I love you. </em>
</p><p>He feels more connected to Bucky in this moment than he ever has and that’s…profound. It’s hefty, sits heavy on Steve’s heart, in his being. What transpired tonight has brought the two of them together and that isn’t something that he thought was possible. He is one with Bucky, has a connection shared with Bucky that he has with no one else in his life. He knew this, <em>knows this, </em>but he feels the energy of that vibrating through his body.</p><p>
  <em>I love you. </em>
</p><p>The way Bucky acted tonight, the way he behaved, was marvelous. No performance, nothing Bucky didn’t want to do. He listened to Daddy, he yielded to Daddy, he gave to Daddy. Multiple times throughout the night Steve felt his mind shifting, felt himself slipping into a headspace he’s familiar with but has to fight often. He let it shine through more tonight that he ever has. A valiant effort, Steve thinks to himself as he looks down at Bucky’s collar. His fingers shake as he runs them across the dusty blue velvet, as he runs his thumb along the sparkling diamond sitting above the hollow of Bucky’s throat.</p><p>
  <em>I love you. </em>
</p><p>He can’t describe with words how good it feels to be grounded here while Bucky himself floats somewhere pleasurable all because of Steve, at his hand and his body and his mouth. His purpose in this relationship and in his life was put to the test tonight, had a light shined brightly on it. Steve will be riding this high for days, weeks, to come.</p><p>“I love you,” Steve breathes, lips on Bucky’s brow, and he feels it twitch beneath his mouth. Bucky’s hand comes to life, grabs at Steve’s pec, his chest, once roughly and then softly the moment he realizes who and what he’s touching. Steve doesn’t have time to address the way his heart jumps into his throat at how quickly Bucky came to realize Daddy was Daddy.</p><p>“Y’love me?” are Bucky’s first words spoken to Steve after he’s slipped away from Daddy in a sugary frenzy. His voice is like sandpaper, a croak of a noise that Steve feels more than he hears. Steve chuckles, a noise wet with the emotion and bafflement at how Bucky could be asking such a question after such a night.</p><p>“I love no one more than I love you, Bucky,” Steve whispers matter-of-factly, kisses his forehead once before brushing his curls back from his brow to better look down into Bucky’s eyes. Steve shifts, situates himself more comfortably into the couch and into Bucky’s embrace. He squeezes and rubs at Bucky’s skin, his limbs, as he moves in order to bring Bucky to a bit more, to make him more aware of the space he takes up.</p><p>Once he finds himself looking down into those weepy eyes, as blue as Steve’s most favorite June days, he brings the hand on Bucky’s hip up to cup the side of his face.</p><p>“Hey, sugar.”</p><p>Bucky brings his hand up, presses a few fingers lazily against Steve’s chin, his lips, a smile barely pulling up in the corners of his own mouth as he watches his fingers move through half-lidded eyes.</p><p>“Daddy,” Bucky whispers in what sounds like <em>awe, </em>and Steve’s exhale is heavy as he nods his head, kisses at Bucky’s fingers.</p><p>“Always, Buck. Always your Daddy.”</p><p>“Always my Daddy, my Steve,” Bucky repeats, reiterates for the world to hear, huffing out a breath of a chuckle when he watches Steve purse his lips against Bucky’s hand.</p><p>“Yeah, Buck.”</p><p>Steve doesn’t try and break the silence that follows, doesn’t try and push Bucky along into the loose plan he has formed in his head. He watches Bucky come to slowly, watches the way his eyes take in their surroundings, the way he touches Steve’s face and looks on as his hands and fingers touch and dance. Bucky lets his hands wander down Steve’s neck, across his chest, his shoulders, squeezing and tracing meaningless patterns into Steve’s skin that feel like fire to Steve himself.</p><p>When Bucky turns his head into Steve and whimpers some, Steve bundles Bucky up more, pulls him in more, gives into the natural urge to make him smaller and hold him close. It presses them further into the couch together, sinks them into each other, into the cushions. Steve wishes he too were naked, wants to feel Bucky’s skin all over his own.</p><p>“How do you feel, baby?” he inquires gently, pressing his forehead against Bucky’s temple. His arm continues to cradle Bucky’s head, his neck, but his other arm has found its way under the throw, hand hungry to touch. It takes home on Bucky’s side, squeezing above his hip, Bucky’s legs falling over Steve’s own hip.</p><p>Bucky hums before answering quietly.</p><p>“I feel loved.”</p><p>Steve’s next few breaths get caught in his throat and he tries his best to swallow them down.</p><p>“That’s good, Buck. That’s…everything.”</p><p>“I feel sleepy but…but more on the inside like I want my brain to sleep.”</p><p>Steve kisses Bucky’s cheek, his temple, squeezes at his side gently.</p><p>“You let Daddy do a lot of thinkin’ tonight. People don’t realize how difficult and exhausting that can be, sugar.”</p><p>“My body is sleepy too though, my…I feel sore already. You put me through the ringer, didn’t you?”</p><p>Bucky’s tone is laced with amusement, a little chiding directed at his Daddy, and Steve’s chest relaxes almost immediately at the joking nature of such words. The thought of taking over Bucky’s body makes him react, makes his hands go tight on Bucky’s lax form in his arms. He too is exhausted and wouldn’t dare try anything at the moment but just the thought of Bucky giving his body over to his Daddy has Steve purring.</p><p>“I’ve never seen anything like it, Buck. You gave your everything to your Daddy. It was…<em>fuck, </em>it was beautiful. <em>You </em>were beautiful.”</p><p>Bucky preens. Steve can feel the way his body leans into such a compliment, can hear the way Bucky whines softly, noise right from his throat. He turns his head towards Steve, tips his chin and presses a kiss first to the corner of Steve’s mouth, then there on his bottom lip. Steve feels his eyelids drop at the way such a gentle gesture makes his chest grow warm.</p><p>“I felt beautiful. I’ve never felt like that, felt…so desired and so…so—” Bucky attempts, voice dying on in a whine, but Steve understands. He purses his lips against Bucky’s own, hushes him.</p><p>“It’s okay to not know how to put something like what we just experienced into words, Buck. Let yourself feel it, sugar.”</p><p>Bucky’s exhale is sweet on Steve’s mouth, the hand on Steve’s chest coming to life again to squeeze.</p><p>“Give yourself some time to process. You tell me whatever you wanna tell me right now, but we’ll also have a proper talk later. Gotta take care’a you now.  Y’wanna let your Daddy take care of you? Maybe a bath?”</p><p>Bucky’s grin almost immediately turns into a giggle, one that has Steve pressing kisses into his cheek, humming in amusement.</p><p>“Yeah? Y’want a bath? Maybe some chocolate?”</p><p><em>“Mhmm, </em>want all of that, want it.”</p><p>“You want it right now?” Steve asks, getting a head nod and a noise of affirmation as well. One more kiss shared between the two of them and Steve is moving to stand. As he does so, he can’t help but think back to all the times Bucky made an unpleasant noise when Steve went to move him, when to pick him up or hold him. In this moment, Bucky’s noise is a content one, is a happy one, one that is accompanied with grabby hands and nuzzles. The trust Bucky has for Steve is strong, is breathtaking in the way it has grown over time.</p><p>They stop by the kitchen on the way to their room, Bucky grabbing for bits of that special chocolate, sneaking some fruit snacks, picking up a water bottle. He doesn’t lift his head from where it rests on Steve’s shoulder, his chin tucked in a way that has his lips pressed against Steve’s neck. He makes soft noises every few seconds, rubs them into Steve’s shoulder, his neck. Steve wants to make noises himself at how unbearably adorable Bucky is, especially in moments such as these.</p><p>Steve hates that he has to set Bucky down on the counter, that he has to stop touching him, but Bucky tells him he’s ridiculous for trying to make his way around their bathroom with Bucky in tow. He huffs himself as he sits him softly on the counter, not moving far to rid himself of his pants, his shoes, his socks. Bucky watches on in foggy amusement, attention present but not strong as Steve moves to turn the water on, to test the temperature, to gather two towels.</p><p>Steve is taking in the assortment of bubbles and oils and salts when Bucky speaks up, voice hushed.</p><p>“Do you think we helped Mr. Walker? And…his boy?”</p><p>Steve shifts his attention, moves to stand between Bucky’s legs, cups his face gently. He kisses those pouty lips chastely, wishes to take away any trace amounts of what seems to be doubt Bucky may have.</p><p>“I do, Buck. I don’t think there could have been another display more powerful to witness than what we were able to show him.”</p><p>Bucky brings his hands up to grab onto Steve’s hips, fingers slipping back and digging into the top of Steve’s ass comfortingly. He looks away from Steve’s gaze, lips parting as he breathes, stutters on his thoughts once more.</p><p>“You were so strong, Buck, so brave to give Mr. Walker that opportunity with me in order to better his relationship. You helped make him a better Daddy for his boy.”</p><p>Steve was cautious of this all along, of Bucky’s emotions being too big for him to hold in, of the amount of processing they’ll need to do together. Bucky’s eyes are wet when he shifts them back up to Steve’s own, bottom lip a little shaky.</p><p>“I just want Mr. Walker’s boy to be okay. You really think we helped?” Bucky whispers and Steve can’t stand it, the way his heart bursts at the sheer size and spread of Bucky’s own. His boy feels so much. Steve coos softly as he presses kisses into Bucky’s cheeks, his forehead, his lips. He brings his hands down to Bucky’s neck to wrap loosely around his collar, grounding him.</p><p>“Bucky,” he starts, voice tender yet firm. “I think Mr. Walker learned so much tonight. And I think we helped him learn how to be a better Daddy. I think his boy will appreciate how we’ve helped Mr. Walker. They’ll work it out, sugar. You helped Mr. Walker’s boy tonight, yeah?”</p><p>Bucky nods his head, wraps his arms just a smidgen tighter around Steve’s waist.</p><p>“C’mon. Let’s get you in this bath, Buck…”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>“Hi, no I know it’s late I—no no nothing like that, please, shh calm down, I know. I just…I want to come see you. Is that alright? No, nothing special, just…I’ve been thinking about our last conversation, about what you shared with me. I think…I think the things I want to say to you should be said in person. And it’s nothing bad, nothing negative, just…I’ve really fucked up haven’t I, kitten? I’m in the area. Can I stop by? Yeah? Okay, I’ll see you soon. Bye…” </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please please please come and cry with me on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/howdoyousleep3">Tumblr.</a> All of my love to you. Thank you for being so patient with me. 💖✨</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always I love to hear from you but this one I think I would really like feedback on simply because it is so different. Comments, kudos, kindly-worded critiques, love--I want it all! Come talk to me on Tumblr @howdoyousleep3! &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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